


In All Your Golden Glory

by ThornyHedge



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 39,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge/pseuds/ThornyHedge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aidan is in love with Dean.  But, just this once, he wants to have sex with Fili. </p><p>Roleplaying ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Golden Braids

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers, I don't know what came over me. But I make no apologies. Enjoy! :)

Aidan has to plan his tryst carefully.  And, as he’s generally more than a bit impulsive, it takes some effort.  But he finally gets access to Dean’s shooting schedule and picks a day during the next week—Thursday, to be exact—when Fili is needed on set for 90 minutes longer than Kili. 

He can’t quite remember when he first thought it might be fun to fuck his boyfriend in costume, but once he got the notion stuck in his head there was no pushing it under the rug. Dean, as Fili, wore these prosthetics that made his normally girlish hands freaking monstrous.  The nose was just plain adorable.  The lifts in his boots made them pretty much the same height, which certainly enhanced the possibilities. And the hair… well, the hair was the stuff of golden orgasmo-dreams.  

“Golden orgasmo-dreams?” James Nesbitt leans over the tablet Aidan’s doodling on while he eats his breakfast yogurt. “That a new band or something?” he chomps into an apple. 

“Something like that,” Aidan rubs the back of his neck self-consciously as the others leave the dining tent.

 _Dearest Fili_ , he writes on a fresh piece of paper, _I have been watching you lustfully for some time now_

Uh, no. He sounds like a git. He crumbles the page.

 _Dearest Fili,_ he begins anew, _It’s torture ~~to watch~~ to see_

Guh, please. 

_Dearest Fili,_

_I want you, in all your golden glory._

_Meet me at my trailer when you’re done on set today._

_Bring the daggers._

  
_Aidan Turner_  

That’d work. 

He slips the folded paper onto Dean’s tray when the blonde sits down to join him for breakfast. They’ve  been “an item” for exactly 65 days, and when Dean reads that note he is officially going to think Aidan is a freak and Peter will have to find _another_ new actor to play Fili when he runs away screaming. 

“Read that when I’m gone,” Aidan tells him, smiling and heading for the make-up trailer. 

Dean waits. 

* * *

That day on set, nothing is out of the ordinary.  Except that Dean’s having some wardrobe problems. They’re hitting puffy pillars with swords in front of a green screen, pretending they’re troll legs… and Fili’s coat keeps falling open.  It’s hot on the sound stage, and Dean isn’t wearing anything under the coat.  His chest glistens.  Aidan drools, and Kili is looking at his brother inappropriately.  _Shit._

“Cut!” Jackson orders. “Dean, get to wardrobe and have that coat re-fitted.  Let’s get some shots of Martin and Richard.  Everyone else, take fifteen!”

Dean gives him a wink as he stalks by. Aidan wishes he could take a cold shower. _Those dimples, surrounded by that hair, those braids, those eyes. Oooh, and that ass._   He’d have to settle for a cold drink instead.

Dean does return eventually and the rest of the day passes in a flurry of thudding swords, mangled Khudzul and getting fake hair caught in tree limbs.

“And that’s a cut!’ Jackson hollers around 4:30. “Fili, Bombur, stick around.  We need to test the cocoons before tomorrow’s filming. See the rest of you in the morning. Nice footwork today.”

Aidan raises a hand in parting to Dean, but Dean’s so busy listening to Peter he doesn’t notice.

* * *

Aidan takes a long, steamy shower. He spends more time getting at all the cracks and crevices than he normally would.  After all, this is his first time with Fili and it has to be memorable.  He choses his clothing carefully. They are, in fact, clothing used by male human extras in the film: a billowy ivory shirt and a drawstring-fly pair of brown workman’s trousers.  He knows the shirt makes him look dark and dangerous—or, at the very least, scruffy and cute.

He’s dressed and ready with well over 30 minutes to spare, so he spends the time wisely. He has photos of Dean in various stages of make-up and hair; one, in particular, he finds simply irresistible. It’s Fili (not Dean), filming, with his tan hood pulled up and looking concerned over… something.  Probably Kili. Aidan envies Kili sometimes. Kili could definitely beat him in a bar fight.  He cracks a beer and waits for Fili’s arrival, holding _the picture_ and getting hornier and hornier with each passing minute. He is lost in fantasy, surrounded by a curtain of golden hair.

Three rapid knocks on his trailer door draws him from his reverie. Trembling nervously, Aidan opens the door. It’s Fili.

“Mr. Turner?” Fili asks him.  The voice is not Dean’s, but Fili’s. “Is this your handwriting?” He holds up the note from that morning in one massive, bracered hand.

Aidan is suddenly struck dumb, but nods. 

I’ve seen you in the tavern,” the blonde dwarf nods.  “Bit of an odd method of invitation, don’t you think?” 

“I-I-” but Aidan has no idea how to respond to this. 

“Can I come in, then?” Fili strokes both hands down the front of his fur collar, preening. 

Aidan finally finds his tongue. “Yes, yes.  _Please_ ,” he steps aside to allow Fili entrance. 

And enter Dean does, outdoing his _move over, Mr. Boggins_ on-screen performance by a mile.  As he passes, Aidan notices he’s actually shorter than Fili now, due to being in his bare feet.  His stomach is doing calisthenics. 

“Nice place,” Fili takes in the lit candles. Aidan admires the way Fili’s hair glints in their glow. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Aidan asks his guest.  

“Are we really going to stand on ceremony?” Fili wonders, stepping closer towards him.  “Did you ask me here to drink?” 

“Not necessarily,” Aidan smiles.  He tentatively raises a hand to touch one of those compelling braids. 

Quicker than he imagined possible, his wrist is captured and held in place roughly.  “Oh no, Mr. Turner,” Fili scolds him.  “No touching.  Not yet,” he adds with a wink.  

“I _did_ invite you here for touching,” Aidan pouts, biting his lower lip. 

“And I shan’t disappoint,” Fili grins. “For I intend to do a great deal of touching.”  Fili lifts his empty hand to cup Aidan’s cheek.  “A bit less hairy than I expected,” he assesses, tilting his head to one side, “but becoming nonetheless. Can we get you out of that shirt, then?” 

Aidan nods. His hands, shaking and suddenly clumsy, struggle at his waistband. 

Like lightning, Fili produces a dagger from the sheath on his sleeve.  “Don’t make me cut it off you, Mr. Turner.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” Aidan’s voice is muffled as he pulls the blouse off over his head.  

“Well now,” Fili puts a hand on each of his shoulders.  “I couldn’t tell under that poofish shirt, but you are a finely-cut specimen of man after all.”  One hand slides slowly down Aidan’s chest, taking the time to play with the dark curls there and flirting with a nipple.  The thumb of the other hand caresses his cheek, then guides Aidan’s head gently but forcefully to the side so Fili can have access to his neck. Aidan shudders at the feel of soft lips whispering over his goose-fleshed skin. Metal hair clamps, chilled by the air conditioning, find his neck, shoulder and chest. Fili’s tongue ventures into his ear and Aidan nearly comes right then, hips practically leaping towards Fili’s. “Calm down, Mr. Turner—” 

“Aidan,” Aidan gasps.  “Please, call me Aidan.” 

“Aidan,” Fili breathes his name, locking his fawn-colored eyes with Aidan’s, and it sounds like a promise.  Apparently it was, for in seconds, Fili is kissing him passionately.  It’s a battle for dominance that Aidan doesn’t really care to win.  He allows Fili to herd him against a wall, where the dwarf easily urges his legs apart and slips his own thigh in between and up. Finally, Aidan has something to thrust against.  This time, when he raises his hands to Fili’s hair, he meets no resistance. 

Finally allowed access to that golden mane, Aidan plunders it with his hands. Burying his nose in its depths, Aidan delights in the pure sensual pleasure of it, inhaling the smell of leather, metal, fur, sweat— _Fili_. Turned on beyond belief, he grasps a braid in both hands and pulls Fili in for a kiss.  When he finally has to come up for a gasping breath, Fili slides both hands under his ass and lifts him.  Aidan has no choice but to wrap his legs around Fili’s waist and hang on before the dwarf tosses him a few feet away on the bed. 

Fili stands over him, appraising him as he removes his belt and warm outer coat.  Eyes locked with Aidan’s, he pulls his daggers from both boots, one by one.  “I don’t want to hurt you, Aidan,” he says softly. “But I do want to fuck you.  Is that all right?” 

Aidan’s throat closes and for a moment he simply can’t answer.  He swallows with an audible click. “Gods, yes,” is what comes out.  He sits up and reaches for the drawstring of Fili’s pants.  

Suddenly, the strong hands are back, stopping him.  “No, no,” Fili tells him. “You first, Aidan.  Let’s get you ready.”  He slowly draws one of Aidan’s hands to rest over the bulge in his trousers.  “As you can see, I am _more_ than ready for you.” Aidan nods, giving Fili’s cock a confirming squeeze before lying back on the bed.  

Fili reaches down and undoes the drawstring on Aidan’s pants, then slowly eases them down over Aidan’s caramel thighs and calves.  “No smallclothes,” Fili smiles.  “My kind of human.”  He tosses the trousers onto a nearby chair. Aidan watches Fili lick his lips as his eyes appraise his nudity.  Fili’s hands are flexing as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch first.  Then, with a sudden burst of speed, he grabs Aidan by his ankles and pulls him towards the end of the bed, while simultaneously dropping to his own knees.  

Spreading Aidan’s legs, Fili begins by kissing the insides of both knees, ghosting his warm breath and tongue up the insides of Aidan’s thighs.  How often Aidan had dreamed of feeling that mustache and hair touching him there!  Fili’s hands cup his ass as he butterfly kisses his way towards Aidan’s crotch.  Once there, he draws Aidan’s aching erection into his mouth in its entirety.  Fili is much more aggressive than Dean, which Aidan didn’t expect.  The suction is just short of painful, but the soft curtain of hair falling over his balls and thighs helps soothe the sting. Aidan’s eyes are nearly rolling back in his head in pleasure.  

Saliva soon accumulates, and Fili starts to work his fingers towards Aidan’s pucker.  Fili pauses and Aidan hears a grunt and the sound of ripping.  When he looks down, Dean is tearing off one of Fili’s prosthetic hands with his teeth, exposing his own more agile hand to the air.  With a wink, he drops the prosthetic off to the side.  Aidan has never been more turned on in his life.  Fili works his hand through the spit, around Aidan’s balls and begins massaging the rosebud of muscle beneath.  Aidan writhes in pleasure and allows first one, then two fingers easy entrance 

Not satisfied, Fili gathers his hands under Aidan’s ass and rolls him backwards, nearly folding him in half so that Aidan’s knees fall back next to his ears, exposing his ass to the air.  Aidan feels a more than a bit uncomfortable, until Fili climbs up the bed and begins to fuck him with his tongue.  Then, he can’t even remember his own name. It is filthy and hot and _oh, my God, holy fuck yes._   Fili’s fingers grip his thighs in a way he knows will bruise come morning.  Aidan doesn’t care.  A molten golden curtain of hair cascades around his most intimate parts and tickles his stomach and thighs.  He is in heaven and Fili is his lord and savior.

Fili licks stripes, then delves with his tongue, eventually working a finger in besides.  With a practiced crook, he finds the spot that makes Aidan see stars and keen. 

“Jesus Christ, Fili!” Aidan cries, breathless.  “Fuck me, already!” 

“Well, since you asked so very nicely,” Fili pants, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth to clean it.  He lowers Aidan to his back and eases his own trousers down with one hand, revealing his curved, leaking cock for the first time.  After taking only a moment to smear pre-cum around the tip, he hoists Aidan by the thighs and eases slowly into him, eyes never leaving his lover’s face. Once Fili is fully seated, Aidan wraps his long legs around the leather clad dwarf, as if to trap him.  

Fili leans down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, and Aidan tastes himself on Fili’s strong, talented tongue.  He curls both hands in Fili’s hair and squeezes with powerful internal muscles, encouraging Fili to _move._ Fili does, setting a slow, leisurely pace that scrapes over Aidan’s prostate every third pass or so.  It’s sweet, sweet torture, and the smiling blonde dwarf knows exactly what he’s doing.

Aidan’s died and gone to heaven.  Fili’s glorious locks surround him as the blond kisses his face, lips, neck, then reaches down between them to deftly stroke his erection.  It’s not long before Aidan spills his load between them, and it’s “Fili” he cries when he does.  Fili then grips Aidan’s hips and picks up the pace, coming himself after a few rougher thrusts, groaning, head thrown back in ecstasy. 

Fili pulls out carefully and crawls, leonine, up Aidan’s body, lying beside him.  Aidan pulls him in for a last chaste kiss, twirling one tiny mustache braid around his finger.  “God, Dean,” Aidan whispers, “that was…”

“Pretty far out, right?” and suddenly Dean is back with him.

“You actually fucked me,” Aidan grins from ear to ear.  “Fucked me like a goddamn animal.”

“ _Fili_ did,” Dean tells him. “I’d never do such a thing,” he grins back, sleepily, ripping off the other prosthetic hand and tossing it away.

“I won’t be able to walk properly for days,” he pulls Dean down, nestling the blonde’s head on his chest and kissing the top of his head. 

“Serves you right, you dirty fetishist.” 

“Thank you,” Aidan tells him quietly.  “Thank you so fucking much, Dean.”  He lovingly strokes the golden locks. 

Dean’s only response is to hold him tighter. 

They remain in that position for some time.  Then, just when Aidan thinks Dean has fallen asleep, he hears, “Can Kili come over tomorrow night?”

 


	2. Ebony Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last night, Aidan had mind-blowing sex with Fili. Tonight, Dean waits in his trailer for Kili's arrival.

Dean's trailer is seventy-five yards from Aidan's, but the way it looks on the inside, it may as well be on another planet. Where Aidan's walls are covered with posters and handouts, Dean's are starkly empty. No clothing or shoes are strewn about; no tchotchkes clutter the surfaces of tables and counter tops. It's practically monastery material. And Dean doesn't do candles. He's far too suave for that. Instead, he has a wall clock with a blue circle of neon around it, and on the table next to his bed, a blue neon lamp provides further mood lighting.

Aidan really likes the place, Dean laments—calls it the perfect fuck pad. Kili, on the other hand, might find it akin to walking onto a spaceship. And he does not want to freak out the already skittish dwarf. To be fair, he loves the look Kili gets in those gigantic brown eyes when he's scared or apprehensive—or suddenly separated from his beloved big brother. Kili's eyes are by far his best feature, as far as Dean is concerned. He especially loves they way they look by the light of a fire. Maybe he should have lit candles after all. Ah well, it's all for the best. He wants Kili to be a little on edge. It'll be part of the fun.

Dean'd had an hour before his guest arrived to chill some champagne and set out a plate of fat strawberries. He'd shaved his face until it was as smooth as a baby's ass. Make-up was going to ream him a new one Monday morning, but he wanted Kili to be the scruffy one tonight. He'd put on jeans and a simple button down shirt; black, of course. He knew he looked amazing in black. His hair was a little longer than normal and starting to curl a bit. He turned to the mirror and gave himself his cheesiest Young Iolaus come hither smile. The Dimples of Death… they hooked 'em every time.

He's walking to his tiny refrigerator to open a beer when he hears a light tapping on the door to his trailer. He pauses, taking a deep breath, and waits. He allows Kili the opportunity to knock again before opening the door grandly. "Hello," he smiles at his visitor.

"Kili," the raven-haired dwarf says, maddeningly serious, "At your service," he nods ever so slightly. "My brother mentioned that you wanted to meet me."

"Your brother spoke the truth," Dean offers him his hand to shake. "Dean O'Gorman, at your service as well."

Kili takes the opportunity to hand Dean a fresh bouquet of wildflowers and tiger lilies. "I-I picked these on the way. I had heard that humans enjoyed flowers."

Dean grins. "And so we do. Please, come in," he ushers Kili into his trailer. Dean strides into the kitchen to find a container for the flowers.

Kili, meanwhile, is apprehensively surveying the dimly-lit trailer. "What curious lighting," he remarks. "Uncle once told me that the halls of Erebor would sometimes take upon them the colors of jewels. I wonder if any might have looked like this room."

Dean notices that Kili hasn't brought any weapons with him, not even a dagger. "I see you are unarmed," Dean remarks.

"Yes, I-I didn't have to travel far to see you. Fili assured me that I'd have no need for weapons in your presence," Kili clarifies, twisting his fingers together nervously.

"Weapons? No," Dean smiles at him. "You won't be needing anything like that. Would you like a drink?" Dean asked. "And, please, come sit by me," he pats the couch nearby.

Kili sits nervously, not allowing himself to get too comfortable right away. He accepts a flute of champagne from Dean and takes a tentative sip. "Oh!" he exclaims, "it tickles! In my nose and in my stomach!" He flashes a smile, full of brilliant white teeth, and takes another, longer swig. Dean has to practically sit on his hands to avoid tackling Kili and licking his exposed throat like a lollipop. "Can I have more?" Kili holds out his empty glass.

"Of course," Dean refills his champagne. "But first," he holds the plate of strawberries out to Kili, "take a bite of one of these after your next sip."

"All right," Kili removes both his bracers before reaching for one of the plump red berries, yet still manages to drop the first one he picks up. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaims, nervously as the strawberry rolls across the floor.

"Leave it," Dean insists. "Here," he picks up a strawberry and aims the pointy end gently towards Kili's mouth.

"Surely you don't mean to feed me?" Kili blushes, gulping down half his glass of champagne in one go.

"That's exactly what I mean to do," Dean meets his gaze. Placing the plate on the coffee table, he slides closer to Kili on the couch.

Kili knocks back the rest of the glass of champagne and leans forward. "Very well, then. This strange drink is going directly to my head. I probably shan't remember being treated like a maiden in the morning."

"You," Dean gently rubs the berry's tip around the perimeter of Kili's lips, then eases the fruit deeper into Kili's lush mouth, "are no maiden."

Kili chastely bites the strawberry and rolls his eyes, savoring the flavor. He wipes the juice from his chin with the back of his hand.

"Wait," Dean leans closer, "you've still got some…. right," he closes his warm lips over Kili's. "Right here," he breathes.

"Mmmm, wait. Wait!" Kili insists, raising his hands to Dean's chest and pushing him away. "I hardly know you. This is—very strange. And you, sir, are very forward." He takes a few deep breaths. "Can I at least have more of that strange ale first?" He asks shyly.

Dean brushes an errant curl from the dwarf's forehead, eyes locked on Kili's. "You can have as much as you like, Kili."

Kili has five more, all the while smiling as Dean regales him with stories of his life as an actor. At one point, Kili begins to remove his outer coat. "It's getting warm in here," Kili confesses. "I think it's the drink. I have never had a head for it." He strips out of a second layer until he's down to his teal woven overshirt, brown trousers and boots. He reaches for another strawberry, which Dean again insists on feeding him. On this pass, Dean makes no pretense, worshipping Kili's mouth with one hand and shoulder length tresses with the other.

"You are so very handsome, Kili," Dean tells him, caressing his stubbled cheek.

"One might say the same of you," Kili responds. His lips are slack and moist from over-stimulation. He grips Dean's face in both hands and kisses him. It's clearly an inexperienced attempt. "I'm sorry," Kili lowers his eyes, blushing. "I-I haven't really done this much before."

"I'll help you," Dean offers him his hand, pulling him to his feet. Kili sways unsteadily, grinning. "Oh boy," Dean smiles. "You are a lightweight, aren't you?" He puts a steadying hand on Kili's hip. "Let's move this party to the bed."

Kili's eyes suddenly grow wide. "Dean, I'm not sure I'm ready for—"

"Shh," Dean places three fingers over his lips. "This," he squeezes Kili's erect member with the other hand, "says otherwise."

Kili whimpers. "Show me what to do."

Dean leads Kili to the bed and bids him to lie down on his back. "I want to ride you," Dean tells him, and Kili nods, too turned on to argue. Dean opens a drawer near the bed and produces a small bottle, which he places nearby. "Makes the ride smoother," he winks, unbuttoning his shirt, relishing the smoldering look in Kili's eyes as he peruses the skin revealed. His pants and underwear soon follow, and naked, he helps divest Kili of his boots. Then, he crawls up next to him.

Kili's eyes are huge and lust-blown, and Dean does what he's fantasized about for months. He straddles Kili's hips and shoves his tongue into his mouth, hands buried in Kili's glorious thick dark hair. Kili's hands explore Dean's chest and back, even venturing to his ass. "Kili?" Dean pauses, breathless. "Do you trust me?"

"We've only just met," Kili smiles, "and in that time you have plied me with alcohol, force-fed me strawberries and laid me out. Of course I trust you."

Dean throws back his head in laughter, and picks up Kili's discarded socks. He quickly and efficiently ties Kili's hands to the slats of the bed behind his head, a few feet apart.

"By Aulë!" Kili tests the bonds and finds them true. "What fuckery is this?"

"Fuckery, indeed," Dean licks his way down Kili's chest, opening his overshirt button by button as he descends. He starts pulling off Kili's trousers with both hands.

"Deeeean," Kili keens, "What are you—?" "Shh!" Dean places a hand over his mouth. "You don't want me to gag you, do you?"

"I—no," Kili quiets. "But, can I see it?"

"See what, love?" Dean whispers in his ear. Then he gets it. "You want to see my cock?"

Kili nods, blushing furiously. "I have never been close to one, aside from my own, of course. I'd like a closer look at yours."

Dean crawls slowly up Kili's supine body and positions his knees on either side of Kili's face, above his shoulders. "It's bigger than I expected from a human of your size," Kili says, almost inaudibly, dark eyes studying Dean's crotch. He licks his lips and suddenly Dean finds himself surging forward. One hand on the headboard, and the other holding the tip of his dick like one of his strawberries, he rubs the head over Kili's lips. Kili is trembling so hard Dean can see it in his bound arms. Tentatively, Kili opens his mouth to accept Dean's offering. Dean doesn't press far, as he knows Kili has never done this before. He's content to have Kili sucking languidly, his talented tongue licking him in circles, then delving into the slit.

"Ah! God!" Dean cries out involuntarily, forcing himself not to thrust into that divine wet heat. He pulls out with a wet pop.

"You are delicious," Kili tells him, biting his lower lip.

"So are you, my friend," Dean pants. "And I am not going to last a minute longer. Need you inside me now, Kili." Kili nods in agreement. Dean eases off Kili and slides the dwarf's brown trousers down over his muscular thighs. Reaching for the lube, he generously but quickly preps himself. He's afraid to touch Kili too much, not sure how sensitive his erection might be, especially due to his inexperience. He is satisfied by simply wiping the remainder of the lube over the tip of Kili's gorgeous engorged cock.

"Thank you for letting me be your first," he tells Kili, lining him up with his entrance and slowly sinking down until he's fully seated. Kili cries out in pleasure and Dean immediately swallows the cry with a deep kiss. Kili is trying like mad to free his hands so he can touch Dean. Dean reaches up and puts a warm hand over each of Kili's as he starts riding him, his eyes locked on Kili's gorgeous ebony depths. It only takes a few strokes before he finds the position in which Kili's dick drags over his pleasure-center. When he does, he throws his head back and savors it.

"Dean, please," Kili's voice is hoarse with need. "Untie me? I have to touch you."

"If you insist," Dean leans forward, releasing one bound hand, then the other. After flexing his wrists experimentally, Kili immediately turns the tables, flipping Dean easily onto his back. With a grunt, he lifts one of Dean's legs over his shoulder and drives into him, rotating his hips until he too finds Dean's prostate.

"Oh. My. God," Dean breathes, hands twining in Kili's hair. "You are far too good at this for a novice."

"I have a lot of lost time to make up for," Kili smiles, and reaches down between them to fist Dean's cock. Dean comes in seconds and Kili follows soon after, hips stuttering, mouth formed in a perfect o of ecstasy.

Kili stays inside him for a few moments, laying his forehead against Dean's. "I shall not forget this night as long as I live," Kili tells him, eyes searching his face.

"Neither will I. Love you so much, Aid," he wraps his arms around his lover. "Thank you for indulging me. I know that was weird for you."

"It wasn't as weird for me as you might think," Aidan admitted. "I think I felt as scared as Kili the first time you and I had sex. And I didn't even get strawberries!"

"Keep the hair on tonight?" Dean begs him. "It turns me on to no end."

"Only if you let me tie you to the bed next," Aidan counters.

"Deal."


	3. Online Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan and Dean discover Durincest fan fic.

Dean, Aidan decides, looks _really_ good in Fili’s clothing.  So good, in fact, that he keeps having sexy dreams about that night Fili came to his trailer and fucked him senseless. When Dean dons the braids and furs, he takes on a different personality. He changes from a snarky little git into a confident, leonine sex god.

Aidan, Dean laments, is fucking _adorable._ But he can’t stop thinking about Kili; Kili, with his huge questioning brown eyes, dazzling smile and courage bordering on stupidity.  Not to mention his incredible naivety between the sheets. When Aidan slaps on those leathers and bow, and that gorgeous mane of long, dark hair, he changes from a smoldering, swaggering sex god to a sweet, romantic puppy dog.

The obsession they have with one another in costume is starting to affect their work.  Longer-than-appropriate looks turn into more frequent touching, which translates into permanent cases of blue balls most days. Spending so much time in character, the lines between reality and fantasy have been known to blur.  Aidan begins to question if Kili might not want Fili as much as Aidan wants Fili.  For Dean, it’s not even a question.  Fili wants to fuck his brother.  Soon.  Like, yesterday.

Of course, they don’t talk about it. They never talk about it.   But then, one night, it rears its big, ugly black and white head.

“Have you _read_ this stuff?” Aidan asks Dean.  He’s seated at the kitchen nook in Dean’s trailer, laptop open.  Internet reception is good in Wellington, so he’s taking advantage of it.  Next to him, an open beer sits, forgotten.

“What stuff?” Dean leans over his shoulder to have a look.

“Sir Ian showed it to me last night,” Aidan squirms uncomfortably.  “It’s stories on the internet, written by fans… about ‘The Hobbit.’  Specifically, about Kili and Fili.”

Dean _does_ know about fan fic, but he pretends he doesn’t.  He picks up Aidan’s beer and takes a long pull.  “Adventures?  Like the brothers in battle and stuff like that?” he asks.

“Well, yes.  Some of them are.  You know, Thorin making Kili feel bad, Bofur chumming around with Fili in the tavern, that sort of thing.  But,” Aidan blushes and rubs the back of his neck with one hand—a gesture that Dean finds so sexy-adorable that his cock actually _leaps_ —and continues, “there’s others too. Um, sexy ones.”

“Bofur having _sex_ with Fili?” Dean scoffs.  “I can see where that’d be a fangirls’ wet dream.  Hrm… that sounds really, really fun actually…” he muses, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, well,” Aidan sounds slightly hurt, “yeah.  I have seen a couple like that.  But there are some, _many,_ of Kili and Fili, you know,” his voice grows so quiet Dean can hardly hear it, “doing it.”

“You mean incest?” Dean asks, even though he knows exactly what Aidan means.  He’s read them.

Aidan nods.  “Look,” he turns the laptop slightly towards Dean. 

Dean slides into the kitchen nook booth beside him and looks at the screen.  “Ah, Tumblr.  So many Kili worshippers, so little time,” he frowns.  “They just love him there.”

Aidan doesn’t ask how Dean knows this. He just clicks on a link that says “La Petite Mort.”

The first several paragraphs appear and the two quickly get lost in them.

 

_“What the HELL do you think you’re doing?!” Fili hissed, clamping his hand around his brother’s wrist, forcefully dragging him away from Thorin, who watched with an irritated look on his face. Kili struggled, stumbling over his own feet as Fili hauled him through the halls of Erebor. The younger dwarf was far too drunk to even be aware of what he’d previously been attempting to do with their uncle, but Fili was too enraged to care._

_Pushing his brother into their chambers, the elder kicked the door shut, sliding the bolt across to lock them in. Fili stalked towards his brother, fire in his eyes. Kili stumbled backwards in confusion, the backs of his thighs hitting the edge of the bed, sending him sprawling backwards. The blonde was on him in an instant, pinning his wrists down, hips rolling into the other set._

_Kili arched into the touch, small whimpers falling from his lips as Fili’s teeth latched onto his neck; the feeling of his skin breaking more than enough to sober the younger instantly. “Fili,” he gasped, trying to pull his wrists free, desperate to touch the elder. His brother rewarded him with another skin-breaking bite, tongue laving over the bleeding wound._

_“No, Kili,” he growled almost savagely, “Tonight I’m going to have you, my atamanel, and you will remember just who you belong to.” Kili whimpered again, squirming underneath his brother as the elder’s mouth continued to work over the abused skin._

_“_ _Fili_ _,” the younger groaned, bucking his hips upwards, trying to find some sort of fiction. The elder bit him again, tearing into his flesh, and it drove Kili wild. Peeling himself off of the other, Fili stepped back from the bed, shedding his clothing until he was bare in all his golden glory. Kili stared appreciatively, brown eyes blown wide with pure lust._

_“Fee,” he pleaded, “Let me suck you off, nadad. Wanna taste you again.” Fili groaned loudly, his cock twitching violently at his brother’s words. Striding back to the bed, he straddled the younger dwarf once more, shifting until he had Kili’s head trapped between his thighs, sliding his cock into the darker’s waiting mouth_.

 

The two are quiet for a bit.  Dean takes another long pull from the beer bottle, this time because his throat is so dry.  He clears his throat. “Aid,” he begins, planning his question carefully, “do you _like_ this?”

Aidan can’t look at Dean. “I-uh-” he falters, “well, it’s really sexy,” he admits.  “But, they’re brothers, so that’s kinda fucked up, right?”

“Kinda,” Dean smiles, putting his hand on Aidan’s thigh under the table and letting it rest there.  “But, holy shit… it’s really hot.”

“Really, really hot,” Aidan echoes, taking the beer from Dean and finishing it.  “Like, I’m-jealous-of-the-sex-they’re-having hot.”

“Darlin’,” Dean turns to him, cupping Aidan’s face with his left hand, “we are probably the only two people on earth who don’t have to be jealous of the sex Kili and Fili are having, because we _can_ have it.”

“Can we have it tomorrow?” Aidan asked shyly.

“Oh yeah,” Dean leans over and kisses up and down the long line of Aidan’s neck.  “But tonight… how about we practice the biting and sucking?” he suddenly, without warning, closes his teeth over the spot where Aidan’s neck meets his shoulder.  Aidan’s hand squeezes his crotch so hard Dean cries out.  “Wow!  Liked that, did you, _nadad?_ ”

Aidan’s dark eyes smolder at him from under a fringe of curls.  “Bed.  Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quoted fan fic is very real: “La Petite Mort” by fili, from AO3. Please visit and give this amazing author your kudos and comments! 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/fili/pseuds/fili


	4. Tangled Web

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An emotional day of filming may culminate in an evening of hot cosplay sex. Or, it just might leave Aidan a blubbering mess.

Early morning sunlight streams through the blinds in Aidan’s trailer. He doesn’t need to be awake yet, but sleep is a lost cause. Last night, when he’d propositioned Dean about Kili and Fili hooking up in costume, he’d forgotten what they were filming today. How could he have forgotten? He’d been dreading it for so long. Spiders. He shudders; Aidan fucking hates spiders.

The cast wouldn’t actually see the spiders until they viewed the post production work. Still, the properties department had been assigned to create a non-animatronic version of what the on-screen spiders would look like. The hulking statue sits ominously in a corner of the warehouse. It creeps Aidan the fuck out, especially since he knows what is coming. It’s just a movie, just a movie, just a movie, he keeps telling himself as he makes coffee and gets dressed to head to the make-up trailer. Fili is going to be fine.

It is chilly on the cave soundstage, the lights muted blue and silver. They spend the day being wrapped in “webbing” and rolled into cocoons, which they take turns cutting off one another, using genuinely sharp daggers and knives instead of the duller dummy weapons they use most filming days. Except for Martin, they’re all adorned with sick grayish pallor make-up, to make them look liked they’ve actually been the victims of spider venom. Each dwarf bears a “bite wound” somewhere on his body. Aidan’s is on his thigh. It itches. They all have webbing stuck to various parts of their bodies by the time 2 p.m. rolls around. Everyone but Dean, that is. Dean hadn’t even had to show up until 2 p.m. 

Shortly after Dean arrives in costume, Peter calls the actors and crew together for a briefing. “As those of you who have read the book know,” he begins, “Fili is the first dwarf Bilbo rescues from his cocoon. But, poor Dean has gotten the shaft for screen time because of Rob’s departure. So, in an effort to rectify that,” Jackson claps Dean on the back, “we’re saving him for last. The ladies are going to love it too,” Peter winks. “You’ve read the script, but let me give you my vision….”

Dean sits down on the ground next to Aidan as Peter continues. “Bilbo’s ring allows him to trick the spiders and begin cutting you all free one by one. He kills a few spiders on his own and, as you know, we’ve already shot the scene where he christens his ‘letter opener’ Sting. As you get down to the business of rescuing one another, you realize that you’re one cocoon short—Fili’s. You can’t find him anywhere. Naturally, you panic.” Unseen by the others, Aidan squeezes Dean’s hand tightly. “Finally, you find him; his cocoon is being physically picked up by one of the spiders and he’s in the process of being dined upon. Picture a Dwarven juice box, if you will.” Some of the others chuckle a bit. Aidan is not one of them. “Kili nails the spider with an arrow to the eyeball. It dies; you cut Fili free. He’s in bad shape, but alive. You know your lines. I’ll call out direction to film your reactions. Aidan, we’ll use a green ball to let you know where to aim. Give us 30 minutes to get some special make-up on Fili, and get him cocooned and I’ll call you all back to shoot.”

“You okay, Aid?” Dean turns to his friend. 

Aidan nods. “Mostly. You?”

“Well, I’m not scared of spiders. But I am claustrophobic,” Dean sighs softly. “Guess this is why we get paid the big bucks.” He squeezes Aidan’s upper arm and leans over, whispering in Aidan’s ear. “Come rescue me quickly, nadadel.”

Aidan can only nod. He feels sick to his stomach as he watches Fili walk away. James takes Aidan’s arm and leads him out into the sunshine to grab a cola and he’s distracted for a short while.

“You look a little green around the gills, boy,” James tells him, handing him a can of Diet Coke. 

“It’s the make-up,” Aidan smiles softly. “You know I’m naturally swarthy, Nesbitt.”

“Ah,” James takes a long swig of soda. “I thought it might be something else. Concern, maybe, for the boyfriend.”

Aidan sputters. “I’m sorry?”

“Jackson runs a safe set. He’ll be okay.”

“No,” Aidan says softly. “I meant the ‘boyfriend’ comment.”

“Well, you’re together, aren’t you?” James blots some soda from his mustache. “Have to be blind not to see it.”

“Does everyone know?” Aidan asks him quietly.

“Nah,” James smiles. “They _are_ blind.”

“I’m not ashamed of it. Of us,” Aidan clarifies. “I just don’t want to broadcast it to the world.”

“Understood, laddie. Your secret’s safe with me. You might want to lay off the longing looks while filming, though. They aren’t exactly brotherly, if you catch my drift,” James advises.

“I catch you,” Aidan smiles. “I’ll try to reel it in. I’m so nervous about this next scene though—crazy nervous.” He is relieved to have someone to tell about this.

“I know what you mean,” James confides. “I had some issues with panic when filming 'Waking Ned.' A co-star I got close to was scripted to be injured. I got physically ill. Something about being in character for too long. It’s a sickness,” he grins. “I like to think it’s a sign of a big, big heart. That, or extreme mental illness.”

Aidan chuckles nervously. “Both, I’m sure. Thank you, Bofur.”

“You’re welcome, Kili,” he smiles.

James grinned as Aidan walked away. _Oh lordy, this one’s got it bad,_ he thinks.

It goes better than Aidan expects. He doesn’t puke, but he’s not himself. He’s Kili. Which, technically, should be a good thing, right?

Fili is a Dwarven burrito, wrapped up so tightly it’s hard to imagine there’s even a body inside the cocoon. He’s hooked up to a set of pulleys and the cocoon is being twisted slowly left and right. The soundstage is eerily quiet, except for the squeaking of the apparatus.

“The spider is holding Fili in four of its eight arms,” Jackson tells them from behind the camera. “It’s trying to decide which end to bite. And, react!”

Kili immediately tries to run forward, but Thorin holds him back with his powerful arms. Several of the dwarves back away in horror and others cry out in dismay and fear. 

“Can you shoot it, Kili?” Thorin bellows. 

Kili nods curtly, pulling out his bow and taking aim. The pulley apparatus has pulled the cocoon to a vertical position and suddenly red splotches bloom on the area covering Fili’s left shoulder. 

“Noooo!” Both Kili and Thorin cry out, involuntarily.

A technician finally lowers a tennis ball-sized green globe on a mic boom to give Aidan an indication of where to “shoot his bow” in order to hit the spider in the eye and free his brother from its clutches. It comes to rest directly over Fili’s left shoulder. Kili “fires” twice, in rapid succession, even though the script only called for one shot. 

The pulley mechanism disengages, lowering the cocoon to the padded ground of the set. 

“The drop will look much faster and more painful on screen,” Jackson tells them. “Thorin, Kili, get in there and cut him free.”

Not needing a second invitation, Kili whips a dagger from its sheath on his belt. He begins, however, with his fingers, working carefully at the webbing around his brother’s face until Fili’s closed eyes are in view. While Thorin works on the area around the wound on Fili’s shoulder, Kili clears the sticky substance from Fili’s nose and mouth, making sure he can breathe. 

The rest of them may have a grey pallor, but Fili is so white he is practically translucent. Kili feels for a pulse; puts his ear by Fili’s nose and mouth to verify he’s breathing. Assured, his eyes raise to meet Thorin’s. 

“He’s taken more venom than the rest of us,” Thorin tells him, “and appears to have lost more blood.” His hands are tight against the bite mark on Fili’s shoulder. 

Kili is crying. In the back of his mind, he thinks _Peter is going to call cut. Kili wouldn’t cry. Peter won’t like it._ But the order never comes.

Kili slips his hands under his brother’s shoulders and Dwalin edges in to grab Fili’s legs. He is a dead weight in their arms and they begin moving him from the cave.

“And, cut!” Jackson finally gives the order. “Fantastic work today, mates. I can’t think of any reason we’d have to re-shoot this. Can someone take care of getting Dean out of that mesh?”

Aidan looks down and Fili is smiling up at him. “Uh, yeah,” the Irishman offers. “I’ve got it, Peter.” Graham lowers Dean’s legs and Aidan his torso. 

“It’s 4:30. Let’s call it a day!” Jackson announces. “Strong performance there, Aidan,” Peter tells him as he passes him by.

Aidan pulls the dagger from his belt and begins sawing. One of Dean’s arms is free and he reaches for Aidan’s shoulder. “Are you all right, brother?” 

Aidan nods tightly, but he can’t stop the tears flowing down his face.

“Can I help?” Richard leans over the pair, one hand on Aidan’s shoulder.

Aidan can’t look at him.

“He’s got this,” Dean tells Richard, but his eyes are on Aidan’s face.

The crew has nearly packed it in when Aidan finally speaks. “This webbing is dreadful,” he says quietly. “And that blood blossoming on your chest,” he shuddered.

“They put a bulb in my hand. Asked me to squeeze it when I was vertical,” Dean told him. “I’m glad it was effective. I heard you yell. Must’ve been scary.”

“It was awful,” Aidan tells him, voice nearly a whisper. “I was terrified. I almost lost you today, âzyungâl.” He strokes Fili’s hair with one hand.

“I wasn’t worried,” Dean slips easily back into Fili. “You and uncle have never failed me.”

Kili wipes tears from his face with both hands. The grey make-up smudges and Dean laughs. “You are in no condition to roleplay right now, Aid,” he decides for the both of them, climbing to his feet. “Let’s go get cleaned up… try this another day? A happier day?”

“No!” Aidan insists. He grabs Dean by his waist and pulls him forward for a kiss, not caring who sees them. “Go get rid of the make up and the blood. Kili will come to your trailer in an hour. I need this tonight, Dean. Please, kidhuzel.”

Dean smiles widely. “Yes, bâhel. But let’s meet somewhere else. How about the Shire?” he suggests. “Bilbo’s home.”

“Yes,” Aidan nods, breath hot on Dean’s neck. “Meet you there in an hour.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nadadel = dearest of brothers  
> Âzyungâl = lover  
> Kidhuzel = gold of gold (the most golden)  
> Bâhel = friend of all friends


	5. In Bilbo's Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili waits in Bilbo's bed for his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted you all to have a little *something* for Valentine's Day. It's the start of something good.

Dean arrived on the set of Bilbo's home early on purpose. He wanted to make sure some oil lamps were lit, and that the place was actually a spot they could shag in without getting caught or seen. Additionally, he wanted to _present_ himself to Kili.  


Dean winced. Even thinking that phrase made him sound like a weirdo. But that's what he wanted to do. He wanted Fili to be waiting in bed for his brother, in just the right state of un-dress. He wanted the hair that Kili took such sensual delight in to be unsnarled and shining like spun gold, and all the braids perfect. This wasn't always possible, because caring for prosthetic hair wasn't simple.  


He'd ditched his hand prosthetics. They made his fists look like hams and were pretty much useless when it came to pleasuring a certain squirming dark-haired lovely.  


Dean had cleaned himself up quite a bit too. It had been hot inside the cocoon. Even on the best days, their costumes got to smelling pretty rank. Leather didn't exactly breathe well. He'd left the fake wound on his shoulder, but covered it with a bandage. Given Aidan's state earlier, it just seemed like the right thing to do. At least, he hoped it was.  


He had genuine concerns about how far to strip down. Fili’s costume added not only height to Dean, but some girth as well. The shoulders and waist were both heavily padded to make him look more burly and Dwarfish. Aidan wanted Fili tonight. Correction, Kili wanted Fili tonight. Would the face and hair be enough to keep the illusion alive? Was he a good enough actor?  


Dean decided to get rid of the padding and outer coat with the fur and wear only his brown cloth shirt, with most of the buttons open. He would pull the cover up to his waist, and decided to go naked aside from the shirt and the clasps in his hair. He’d be lying down. It didn’t matter how tall he was—right?  


The mirror above Bilbo’s washbasin told him he _was_ Fili.  


“Be careful with these,” he smiled at himself. “I just had them sharpened.”  


He was ready.  


And so was Kili.  


Outside the door to Bilbo’s home, Kili paused, straightening and re-straightening his shoulder seams and smoothing down his collars. He saw the light burning inside and decided to knock once and enter. He had never felt more nervous in his life.

“Brother?” he called through the open door. “Are you here?”  


“Yes, _nadad_ ,” Fili’s gentle voice called to him. “I’m in the bedchamber.”  


Kili swallowed down his fear. They were really going to do this.  


Kili slowly walked down the hall towards the inviting glow of the oil lamp. A breathtaking sight met his eyes when he entered the bedroom. Fili lay on his side on the bed facing him, propped up on one elbow. His shirt was open to the waist and a sheet covered his lower half.  


“You came, Kili. I wasn’t sure you would.”  


“After today, I knew more than ever that I had to. By Aulë, Fili, you look so—so—inviting,” Kili stammered. “I have never seen you look more lovely than you do right now.”  


Fili smiled, extending a hand in invitation. “I know this is awkward,” he admitted. “It took all my courage to tell you that I have more-than-brotherly feelings towards you. To have you reciprocate made my heart soar.”  


Kili removed his coat and bracers. “I’m so warm, suddenly.”  


“Come here, _kha’i_ ,” Fili encouraged him, sitting up on the edge of the bed.  


Kili approached slowly, reaching for Fili’s hand. Fili pulled him closer, then reached up to smooth some wild hairs away from his forehead. “Will we ever get you, or your hair, to settle down?” he wondered, smiling fondly.  


Kili ran his own hand down the side of Fili’s face, thumb savoring the textures of his mustache braid. Then, he noticed the bandage peeking from beneath Fili’s shirt, and it all came rushing back to him.  


“I almost lost you today, _kidhuzel_ ,” Kili bemoaned, exposing the bandaged area to his view with one hand. His long, thin fingers brushed lovingly around the wounded area. Fili’s nipple and surrounding skin pebbled up almost immediately in response to Kili’s touch. Fili groaned involuntarily.  


“So the pain is nearly gone?” Kili asked, mesmerized by that small patch of lovely skin and effect his touch had on his sibling.  


Fili shrugged. “Mostly. The area could probably use a little more attention though,” he eased himself onto his back, encouraging Kili to join him in bed.  


Kili did, settling with his face hovered over Fili’s exposed chest. He reverently lowered his mouth to kiss gently around the injury, lips barely grazing the flesh. The muscles of Fili’s chest flexed as he caressed Fili’s pecs and ribs with both hands. Finally, he drew one nipple into his mouth, then the other, laving with his tongue and hinting with his teeth.  


“Mahal, Kili,” Fili groaned. “You have such a talented mouth for someone so inexperienced.”  


“I’ve done this so often in my dreams, is why,” Kili’s deep brown eyes locked with his brother’s.  


The blonde cupped Kili’s face in both hands. “May I kiss you?”  


“I do hope you will,” Kili smiled crookedly, drawing his lower lip into his mouth.  


Fili pulled Kili down on top of him and he kissed his brother on the mouth for the first time. Kili’s skin felt scorching hot—forbidden fruit. His mustache caught in Kili’s stubble and he smiled into the act, his thumbs tracing Kili’s cheekbones as he committed the moment to memory.  


When they were breathless, Kili pulled away, eyes wet with tears. “Fee,” he sniffed. “This will change everything.”  


“This will make everything better, _atamanel._ ” Fili told him. “I love you so much, brother. So much my heart wants to leap from my chest. And--,” he took Kili’s hand and led it to rest over his erection, “other things are leaping too.”  


Kili blushed, as Fili knew he would. Yet, he also licked at his lips in a predatory manner. “Aye, mine too,” he smiled. Fili could feel the hard line of Kili’s arousal against his thigh. “W-what do we do now? Are you feeling up to something more strenuous?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kha’i – wolf  
> atamanel – breath (of all) breaths


	6. Consummating, Communicating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are no words for what happens here. I am still recovering myself. Enjoy!

Fili took his time removing Kili’s clothing, as if each layer covered up a treasure he’d never lain eyes on. That wasn’t true, of course. They had seen each other unclothed constantly in their lives—changing, bathing, tending injuries. But never had it implied what it was implying right now.

“So beautiful, _nadad_ ,” Fili told Kili, when his younger brother stood before him stripped to the waist. “Beautiful, beautiful hair,” he lovingly caressed the raven tresses. “Strong, strong shoulders and arms,”’ he ran his hands down both arms to grab Kili’s hands. “I need to see all of you, now!” he insisted. It was getting more difficult for him to hide the erection he was sporting beneath the thin cotton sheet. “Let me see you?”

Kili bit his lip nervously. “After this, there is no turning back, brother,” he said solemnly. “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what, _kha’i_?” Fili pulled him down to sit next to him. “Not of me, I hope. I would never, on my life, cause you any harm.” He cupped his brother’s face and pulled their foreheads together. “This I swear to you,” he promised. 

“I’m afraid of the feelings I have, Fili,” Kili confessed. “I’m afraid because I feel very strongly that you may be my One. And that is … that’s so wrong. Brothers cannot be meant for one another in that manner,” his voice wavered.

“Kili, _atamanel_ , I feel the same way. I have since we were small and the feelings made no sense. Yet there they were. Now, I can give words to those feelings, and, with your permission, can act on them.” So close, they were sharing one another’s breath, Fili nuzzled his nose against Kili’s. “No one who knows us would find our decision in any way out of the ordinary. You must know this.”

“But, Thorin--,” Kili grasped a handful of his brother’s golden mane and held onto it like a lifeline. “He’d be so ashamed.”

“Thorin is stubborn, you know this,” Fili implored. “Always worrying about his precious line of Durin. Kili, we _are_ that line. Our happiness has got to be foremost in his mind.”

“And our failure to continue that line because we do not marry Dwarf women and have fat babies?” Kili looked terrified. “What then?”

“We will rule together, and adopt an orphan Dwarf child!” Fili exclaimed. “As sovereigns, it would be within our right.”

This calmed Kili considerably. “I have felt so scrutinized since we joined Thorin’s company. All eyes are always on me, waiting for me to fail; to show my inexperience,” he let a tear fall, unbidden. “You cannot imagine the pressure I feel, knowing he would have rather left me in the Blue Mountains.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth, _nadadel,_ ” Fili insisted. “He loves you so much, and is so very proud of you. He fails at expressing it. How glad I am that you aren’t like him in that regard.”

“I love you strongly, Fili!” Kili admitted. “So much it feels like my heart could burst. I have loved you since the moment I--,” he faltered and Dean thought he saw a bit of Aidan’s own emotion in Kili’s eyes. “I have loved you since the moment I understood who you were to me. My Fili, my brother, my everything.”

Fili could no longer hold back. He slotted his mouth over Kili’s and practically devoured him, feasting upon the love he’d been denying for so very long. “Want you, Kili,” he gushed, when they came up for air. “I want to lay with you. Tonight. Now.”

Kili nodded. “Aye, my _âzyungâl,_ ” He stood and slowly undid the drawstring on his leather pants. Eyes trained on his brother’s face, he slowly slid the pants down his thighs, exposing his arousal to his brother.

Fili unconsciously licked his lips and grunted his approval. “I won’t lie and say I have never seen you aroused before, for I am guilty of watching you pleasure yourself—on several occasions,” he confessed. “But to see you like _this,_ ” Fili sighed and dropped to his knees in front of Kili. “I must taste you.” He reached out and slid Kili’s pants to the floor and held them as his brother stepped out of them. Starting at his ankles, he caressed his way up Kili’s strong ankles, calves, around the backs of his thighs until he held his brother’s ass cheeks in both hands.

Kili was blushing madly above him and Fili smiled gently. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Kili,” the blond told him. “You are _ezùhyesh!_ ” He rolled his eyes, enjoying the sight before him. Clinging to Kili’s butt firmly, but affectionately, Fili leant in and took his first tentative taste, licking one pearly drop of pre-cum from Kili’s member.

He raised his eyes to meet his brother’s. “Ambrosia,” he told him. “I’m going to have to have more,” he announced, and with no further pretense, drew Kili’s dick into his mouth.

“Oh… guh!” Kili gasped, not expecting the sudden heat and suction, nor Fili’s talents with his tongue. He brought his hands up to delve into Fili’s mane as the blond set up a pace of pleasuring him that was both exhilarating and maddening. Kili felt his knees weakening as he drew closer to orgasm. 

So did Fili. He back off for a few seconds to twirl Kili around and plop him down onto his back on Bilbo’s bed. His penis bobbed merrily, hypnotically, and Fili continued his ministrations. 

Finally, Kili cried out, “Pull off, _nadad!_ I’m going to--,”

But Fili only redoubled his efforts and when Kili mewled and fisted the sheets in bliss, Fili swallowed each drop. Licking his lips, he climbed up his brother’s naked body and lay next to him, panting. Kili was trembling.

“I never knew you had such… gifts,” Kili told him, wrapping his arms around the blond.

“I have only begun to show you my talents, _kha’i_ ,” Fili purred.

Kili sighed, contented, then realized that Fili’s erection was still unsatisfied. He slid his hand down under Fili’s shirt and along his bare flank, then gently grasped the organ. “I was thinking,” Kili proposed, “that maybe I might like you to-” he paused, “to penetrate me.” Kili felt his brother’s erection twitch in his grip. Certainly the idea was well-received. “I-I brought along some special oil we can use. You know, to make it easier. There is nothing I want more than to be claimed by you, _kidhuzel_.”

“I too want that,” Fili agreed. “Where is the oil, _nadad?_ ”

“In my coat,” Kili told him. Fili got out of bed and found the vial in the pocket of Kili’s long leather coat. 

When Kili reached for it, Fili stopped him. “No, _kha’i,_ let me prepare you.”

Kili’s breath hitched in his throat. “All right.”

Fili selected one of the unused pillows from the head of the bed. “Lie down,” he told his brother, “on your stomach, with this under your hips.”

Kili complied, skin pinking up adorably again. Fili placed the vial on the dresser and removed his shirt. Kili couldn’t tear his eyes away. They swept over Fili from head to toe and his breathing, already erratic, stuttered.

“I’m going to open you up for me, _kha’i,_ ” Fili told him, pouring a puddle of oil into the small of Kili’s back above the cleft of his behind. “It may feel a little odd at first. Hopefully not painful. But I promise you, it will feel marvelous when I’m through.”

“Want you, Fili,” Kili’s eyes were dark with lust. “Please, do it.”

Fili lay down next to his sibling, on his side, with his face level with Kili’s adorable round rump. “What a cute little arse you have, _nadad,_ ” he chuckled, giving it a little smack.

Fili was surprised when his brother’s hips gave a small lurch and he bit his lip invitingly. “Liked that little love tap, did you?” he wondered, filing that tidbit away for another time. “Now, I apologize if this is a little cold, Kili.” Fili ran two fingers through the puddle of oil in the dip of his brother’s spine, then teasingly ran them into his ass crack—once, twice, three times. 

Kili squirmed and let out a pleasured sigh. “I’m not used to being touched there, brother. Forgive me.”

“You’ll be used to it soon enough, _atamanel_. Used to it, and begging for more, I’d wager,” he moved his wandering fingers lower, moving tenderly over the pucker of Kili’s opening. Kili responded by opening his legs wider and groaning wantonly. He was ready.

Fili massaged the brunet’s perineum for a few minutes until Kili began begging, “Inside me, please, Fee! I can’t bear it anymore!” Fili obliged by sliding one well-oiled finger in, up to the first knuckle. Kili gasped, but not in pain, so Fili continued. He worked the finger in a bit further, then more, until it was buried as far as the digit would possibly go.

“Does it pain you, Kee?” the blond asked him. 

“Feels strange, but doesn’t hurt,” he blushed. “I’m hard again.”

“I’m very gifted at this,” Fili grinned. “And I am only getting started.”

A second finger soon joined the first, and Fili begin slowly moving them in and out of his brother, opening and closing them gradually, then a bit more as he did so. Finally, Fili lost his restraint and crooked the digits upward until they made contact with a small protrusion inside his brother’s channel. 

Kili gasped and his fingernails scraped down the wooden headboard of the Hobbit’s bed. “Mahal!” he breathed. “What did you do?”

“Just a special spot we males have inside us,” Fili told him. “A very pleasurable spot,” he added, circling his fingers over it. Kili’s hips juddered beneath his hand. 

“I really need to you fuck me now, Fee,” Kili’s voice sounded broken. “Can—?” he began, then paused.

“What is it, love?” Fili encouraged him.

“Do you think I can ride you and still have you hit that spot?” 

“I have no doubt about that, brother,” Fili purred. He rolled onto his back as Kili rose to climb aboard his hips. Fili centered himself on the bed, swiping his hand through the oil on Kili’s back and generously but carefully coating his throbbing erection. “Just take it slow,” he cautioned. “It might—Aulë!” he cried in surprise, as Kili sank down on his turgid dick.

“Oh my… ow,” Kili grimaced, lowering his forehead to his brother’s and whimpering. “I might have gotten a little over-zealous,” he groaned softly.

Fili raised his hands and soothed them over the brunet’s hips. “It’ll pass,” he assured him. “It gets easier in time.”

“I don’t want to talk about how you know all this, brother. At least not right now,” Kili gyrated his hips experimentally, then stilled. “I’ll be sore in the morning,” he admitted. 

“And you will love every minute of the pain,” Fili told him. “I can’t believe I’m lying here, inside you.”

“Oh, _I_ can,” Kili rolled his eyes. He grabbed Fili’s wrists and pinned them above the blond’s head, holding them there as he began grinding slowly on his brother’s organ. As he found himself more able to move, he experimented with the position until he found just the right angle where Fili’s hardness rubbed against that miraculous spot inside him. He saw stars on each pass and knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Are you close, _nadadel?_ ” Fili wondered. “For I am about to gush!” he announced.

“Terribly, terribly close,” Kili threw back his head, letting his hair just tickle his brother’s thighs. That simple contact drove Fili over the edge. He reached up to grab Kili’s hip with one hand and his erection with the other and slammed into him from below, spilling his hot seed into the brunet.

Kili held onto Fili’s thighs and rode out his own second orgasm, then collapsed next to his brother, exhausted. 

“I must know,” Kili squeezed Fili’s waist and lay his head on his sweaty shoulder. “Where did you learn to do all this, _atamanel?_ ”

“Everyone needs a teacher,” Fili told him softly. “You are lucky. You have me.”

“And who was your teacher?” Kili pursued.

“I’m not sure I should tell you,” Fili considered. “The knowledge might make you uncomfortable.”

“Nothing you tell me will affect how I feel about you, _nadad,_ ” Kili assured him.

“It was--” Dean scrambled for a name and blurted out the first that came to his sex-addled brain. “It was Thorin, brother.”

“Oh,” Kili responded softly, then was quiet for a few moments. “Dean?” Aidan asked finally, “why did you say that?” he idly played with Fili’s braids with one hand.

Now it was Dean’s turn to blush. “I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “It just seemed… right.” He murmured. “And you have to admit, the notion of Thorin buggering Fili is pretty fucking hot.”

“Not to me,” Aidan pouted. “Well, unless…” he began.

“Unless?”

“Unless I got to watch.”

There was suddenly a clatter from the other side of the wall, and both men sat up quickly.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean grasped Aidan’s arm.

“More importantly, _who_ the fuck was that?” Aidan frowned.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Richard swore to himself, hurrying across the deserted set and away from Bag End. He’d stuck around on set earlier when Aidan and Dean sent him away, and had—from out of sight—heard them planning their tryst. He was too curious not to spy on them.

When he arrived, he snuck around the back of the set of Bilbo’s home and sought out a crack in the back wall of the bedroom. Sets weren’t constructed as well as actual homes, and he was able to observe everything from about the time Dean started taking Aidan’s costume off. Or was it Fili taking Kili’s clothing off? Richard found himself inexplicably drawn into what he’d seen and was a dreadful combination of freaked out and turned on.

He’d jerked off, eyes trained on the spot where Fili’s dick penetrated his brother’s ass and slowly stroked himself to their rhythm until the brothers reached climax.

Still, he didn’t come. Not until Fili told his brother that Thorin had been his teacher, and Aidan admitted that he would like to watch Thorin buggering the blond.

At those revelations, Richard gasped and came in his pants like a love-struck fan girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ezùhyesh = big


	7. Speculation, Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Aidan speculate about who their mysterious voyeur was. Meanwhile, someone is planning a tryst of his own.

The next day was awkward for Dean and Aidan. They were more obnoxiously cliquish than normal, and most of their time between takes was spent speculating about who their mysterious voyeur had been. 

“It had to be Adam,” Dean posited during a fifteen-minute morning break as they sat on a bench in the warm sun.

“How d’you figure?” Aidan leaned in to take Dean’s soda from his slack fingers and took a swig for himself.

“I dunno,” Dean shrugged. “Maybe because he’s the one I’d be least embarrassed to catch us having sex?”

“My money’s on James,” Aidan told Dean over lunch. “He knows about us already,” he enumerated on his fingers, “He’s always checking you out,” Dean’s eyebrows shot up, “And it just seems like something he’d do.”

“Really?” Dean picked an orange seed from Kili’s hair. “Because it seems like he’s always chatting _you_ up, not me. And besides, James is happily married.”

“Even married men need a wank every now and again.”

“And you think he’d want to—to— _wank,_ ” Dean’s voice dropped to a whisper, “watching two dwarves fuck?”

“I know I would,” Aidan said solemnly, squeezing Dean’s thigh under the table. He quickly pulled the naughty hand away as Richard strode over with his tray. The actor smiled and nodded at the pair. “Hi, Richard,” Aidan smiled back. Dean raised a hand in greeting.

“Mind if join you?” Richard asked them.

“Please do,” Dean invited him, and their conversation turned to more mundane things. Soon Richard had them both laughing as he told them a story about falling off a horse and losing his codpiece on the set of _Robin Hood._

“Sir Ian, then,” Dean suggested later that afternoon. 

“Evidence?” Aidan wondered.

“Well, he’s the one who pointed out the slash fiction to you,” Dean began. “And, well, he’s gay.”

“And naturally, of all the good looking men on this set, _we’re_ the ones he’d find the most attractive,” Aidan rolled his eyes. 

Dean shrugged. “I’m running out of ideas.”

“Maybe it was just a piece of scenery falling over,” Aidan chewed the inside of his cheek. “Sets can be breezy.”

“True,” Dean agreed. “Maybe we’re getting all paranoid for nothing.”

“God, I hope so,” Aidan said darkly. “Because this is torture.”

\-------

That evening, after they’d all been through make-up and changed into their street clothing, Dean was heading across the lot towards his trailer when he ran into Richard headed the other direction. 

“You should wear your hair like that more often,” the older man told him in passing, “without all that goop in it. I like the way it curls.” 

Dean watched him walk away, brow knitted. Back in his trailer, he smiled fondly as he squirted hair gel into his hands, and briefly allowed himself to fantasize that the hands running through his hair were Richard’s and not his own.

When he left a few minutes later to meet Aidan for dinner, he found a note on his kitchen counter. In neat block printing, it said:

Kidhuzel,  
I’ve been dreaming about you.  
Must have you again.  
Will you meet me at my home tomorrow night?  
Come at 7:30 and take a shower. I’ll be home at 8.  
Your Kili

Dean grinned. He was all about cleanliness

\-------

When Aidan left his trailer, cup of coffee in hand, the next morning, he found a note peeking out from under his door mat:

Dear Sweet Kili,  
I cannot get you out of my mind.  
I want to come over tonight.  
I’ll be in your bed waiting for you at 8 p.m.  
Dean

Aidan smiled and stuck the note in his pocket. It was going to be an amazing day. 

\-------

On set, they played it cool. Cooler than usual, in fact. Truth be told, Aidan could barely contain his eagerness. But Dean didn’t talk to him at all that day, until Peter called for the cut at 6 p.m. Then, the blond sauntered over.

“Long day, eh?” he lay his hand on Kili’s shoulder. “See you tonight, then.”

Aidan had no idea how he’d pass the next two hours, but he knew he would be sporting a spectacular boner.

\-------

Dean followed Kili’s instructions to the letter. He showed up at Aidan’s darkened trailer at 7:30 p.m. with a gym bag full of clean clothes and toiletries. He spread the bag’s contents out on Aidan’s bed and fired up the shower at 7:35. He was out and drying off at 7:40. Eschewing underwear, he slipped on a pair of black sweatpants and some socks. 

Dean was leaning over to pick up a clean t-shirt when he was suddenly grabbed from behind. A strong hand grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck to a blade held against it. “Don’t move!” a voice hissed in his ear. 

Dean immediately recognized the voice. “R-Richard?” he ventured. Yet he felt the mail of Thorin’s armor, cold against his bare back and smelled the leather and fur.

“I am Thorin Oakenshield,” the voice grated. Dean felt his knees weaken at the sound of the rumbly baritone and he let out an involuntary groan. “Dean?” Richard asked him. “I heard you say the other night that you wanted this. Is it true?”

“It was _you,_ ” Dean surmised, “watching us at Bag End.” He swallowed down a lump of fear, confusion and utter horniness.

“It was, aye,” Thorin told him. The hand in his hair pulled his head to one side, and Thorin ghosted his breath over Dean’s neck. He chuffed, latching on with his mouth to the spot where Dean’s neck met his shoulder. Dean groaned appreciatively. “I’ll ask again,” Thorin said deliberately, “Do you _want_ this?”

Dean nodded, shivering. “Yes—God—I want this.”

“Then we’re going to stage a little scene for Kili,” Richard told him, releasing Dean from his grip. “Sit down in that kitchen chair,” he told the blond, pulling several strips of black cloth from his coat pocket.

“Wait. One thing, Richard,” Dean insisted, sitting down. “If Aidan says ‘no,’ at any time during this, we stop. Agreed?”

Richard smiled, stretching one of the silk scarves between his hands and showing it to Dean, “Agreed.”

A few moments later, the door to the trailer opened and Aidan came in, still wearing his Kili costume, as the note had requested. He flicked on a light switch to discover Richard looming in his living room, still wearing his Thorin gear. “Richard?” his eyes grew wide. Richard didn’t speak.

“U-Uncle?” he corrected. Kili placed the bouquet of lilies he was carrying down on the table inside the door. "W-what are you doing here?"

Thorin took a step to the left to reveal something even more shocking than finding Richard Armitage in his trailer. Dean was tied to a kitchen chair and gagged with a silk scarf. He wasn’t struggling, but his eyes were imploring Aidan to do…. something.

“I found this human snooping around your home,” Thorin told Kili. “I detained him because he claims he knows you.” Thorin walked around behind Dean, one hand possessively splayed on his bare chest. Thorin lowered his mouth to Dean’s ear and then locked his eyes with Kili. “What do you want to do with him?”


	8. Convincing Kili

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with a tied-up Dean and the surprise of Thorin, what will Aidan do?

“I found this human snooping around your home,” Thorin told Kili. “I detained him because he claims he knows you.” Thorin walked around behind Dean, one hand possessively splayed on the blond’s bare chest. Thorin lowered his mouth to Dean’s ear and then locked his eyes with Kili. “What do you want to do with him?”

Aidan blinked once, twice. _Did I hit my head on set? Am I dreaming?_ Finally, he came to the conclusion that this was actually happening. Seconds passed before Kili finally saved the day by speaking up.

“Yes, Uncle, I do know him. Dean is my… friend,” he clarified. We met in the tavern some time ago and have recently been more,” his eyes met Dean’s, “intimate. It’s not necessary that you tie him up, although I appreciate your concern.” He noticed the hickey blooming on Dean’s shoulder and Aidan’s voice wavered a bit. “Richard…” he broke character. “What the blue fuck is going on here? Did you plan this? Was it you spying on us the other night?” As Dean and Richard watched, Aidan’s face cycled through several emotions—fear, betrayal, concern, desire—and not all of those emotions were necessarily Aidan’s, but Kili’s as well.

Richard patted Dean on the shoulder and approached Aidan. “Yes, it was me,” he spoke quietly, attempting to calm the younger actor as he would a skittish deer. “I followed you, and yes, I watched. Although I’m sorry to have made you two feel exposed and uncomfortable, I’m not in any way sorry for what I saw. You are… exquisite,” he brought up a hand to caress Kili’s hair, but Aidan stepped backwards away from him. “Both in and out of costume, you are exquisite,” Richard stepped forward in pursuit. “I can’t help watching the two of you together. When I saw you role-playing, I suppose I got over-zealous. I’d never, ever try to come between you and Dean, Aidan. But when I saw the two of you playing at Kili and Fili, specifically when you started talking about me, it made me wonder if there might be room in your other _relationship_ for—for me. For _Thorin,_ ” he clarified.

Another step towards Aidan and Richard had him backed against the closed door with nowhere else to retreat. Aidan cut his eyes to Dean, but despite his precarious position, Dean seemed fairly calm about all of it.

“I am very fond of you, nephew,” Thorin switched gears suddenly, cupping Kili’s face and turning him so that he was forced to look him in the eye. “I am sure it was a shock when Fili told you that it was me who taught him how to properly pleasure another male,” Aidan tried to squirm from Richard’s grasp, but Richard held him, gently but firmly. “You were young. It was his time, not yours. Just because he was first does not mean I care any less for you, Kili. And the other night I heard you telling your brother that you found the idea of the two of us together to be…enticing.”

“Th-that was said in the heat of passion,” Kili whispered, acquiescing to the role-playing “We had just done a very private, intimate thing, Thorin. And you were spying on us!” he spat. With a surprising burst of strength, Kili brought both arms up and pushed Thorin away from him. But Thorin only redoubled his efforts to calm the feisty brunet. Using his larger frame, without hurting Kili, he leaned all his weight against the younger, smaller man, sliding one knee between Kili’s legs, and up to rest against his crotch, to add to his vulnerability.

“Kili, I _love_ you,” Thorin told him, ice blue eyes searching his face, while one large hand pressed upon his chest and the other wound in his dark hair. “Please let me show you how much.”

Kili still refused to touch his uncle, although Thorin could feel him trembling as his resolve crumbled.

“Dean?” Aidan asked, turning to his bound boyfriend. “Are you really on board with this? Tell me now.”

Dean nodded, eyes locked with Aidan’s. 

“Okay, then,” Aidan breathed and turned to Richard. “I’m angry with you, Uncle, for spying,” he told Thorin. “Fili and I have only recently begun to fully make sense of the feelings we have for each other, and I feel terribly violated by your actions.”

“I am truly, truly sorry, Kili,” Thorin told him, not relenting his physical position. “I never wished to hurt you in any way. If I can help you and Fili sort through your feelings, I would be happy to offer any advice I can.”

“I don’t need your help,” Kili squirmed. “I can handle Fili just fine.”

“Aye, so I saw,” Thorin smiled. “But still there are skills I can teach you, _show_ you, so that when you and your brother again get intimate, you can catch him off-guard with your prowess. Things I never taught Fili,” Thorin purred, nuzzling against his nephew’s cheek. 

Kili turned his face away, conflicted, and bit his lip. “And just how,” he asked, “do you intend to show me these things, Uncle?” 

“We’ll use your human friend here,” Thorin suggested conspiratorially. Kili heard Dean involuntarily gasp and his own traitorous cock twitched against Thorin’s thigh. _Dammit,_ he swore. Aidan was pissed off at both of them right now, but being turned on beyond belief was rapidly overtaking anger on his hierarchy of emotions. Thorin had felt Kili’s arousal and smiled warmly, nestling his knee a trifle higher against the door frame and putting more pressure on the engorged organ.

“It’s clear you sought Dean out because he so closely resembles your brother,” Thorin continued, unclasping Kili’s outer coat with one hand, caressing his face with the other. “I can use his body to show you what do to,” Thorin explained, revealing Kili’s chest to the open air. “But the kissing I shall have to teach you myself, _kha’i_ ,” the elder Durin growled, covering Kili’s mouth with his own.

 _Aulë!_ Aidan found himself thinking, and then, he knew he was well and truly fucked. He did what he secretly had longed to do for ages and buried both his hands in Thorin’s incredibly majestic mane of hair, and drove his tongue into his uncle’s mouth, humping Thorin’s muscular thigh like he was at a high school dance.


	9. Taming Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin/Dean/Kili
> 
> Yeah, I went there. Come with me.

Kili and Thorin weren’t finished making out, but Dean’s hands were starting to get cold and numb. Thorin, in his zeal, had tied them a bit too tightly. It’s not like Dean’d been given a safe word or anything—only a gag. He rolled his eyes. Oh, and it was freezing in Aidan’s trailer. Warm-blooded fucker. Only one part of Dean’s body seemed to be able to retain heat, and that was his cock. He was a popsicle, with a firecracker shoved down his sweats. 

Watching Thorin and Kili getting it on was hotter than he’d ever dreamed it would be. Mostly because it was so _real._ There was no perfect romance-novelesque shedding of clothing. Oh no, not here. There were rips and grunts and, oh man, wardrobe was not going to like _that_. Aidan was pissed at Richard and it showed. If kisses could kill, Armitage would be a dead man. 

The abundance of long, dark hair was really turning Dean on. As he watched the two of them together, Dean began to understand Peter’s casting choices. Aidan, as Kili, really did look like a younger version of Richard, as Thorin. Annnd Dean was think-babbling, which was understandable, seeing as how he was watching Kili and Thorin-goddamn-Oakenshield getting it on.

“Stop,” Kili said suddenly, “just… _stop._ ” Surprisingly Thorin stilled and pulled away from him. “I-I want to take care of Dean,” Kili explained, which Dean was completely on board with. 

Thorin stepped aside as Kili moved to remove the gag from Dean’s mouth. “Dean,” Kili said apologetically, “I am so very sorry for my uncle’s behavior. He can be extremely overprotective.” Kili caressed Dean’s jaw line. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, not really,” Dean said softly. “I was so happy when I found that note from you. You didn’t really write it though, did you?”

“No,” Kili told him, sadly. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to see you again. I guess I’d supposed you were done with me.” Kili moved around the back of the chair and worked at untying Dean’s hands.

“Done with you? Why on earth would you think that?” Dean shivered involuntarily. “We had such fun together, Kili. I think about you all the time.”

“Thorin!” Kili looked accusingly at his uncle. “You’ve tied him so tightly I can’t undo your knots. Come free him.”

“You like this human a great deal, don’t you, nephew?” Thorin’s breath was hot on Dean’s neck, raising goosebumps there. “I can understand the appeal. He’s smaller than most Men you were raised around. Almost dwarf-like,” he leaned forward and whispered to Dean, who scowled, “and lovely, lovely hair,” Thorin raised one hand to tangle in Dean’s curls. “Such a delectable neck,” he mused, running his lips along Dean’s neck yet again.

“So you’re just going to leave me tied up and ravish me, then?” Dean sighed. 

“No, _kidhuzel,_ ” Thorin chuckled. “We shall untie you first.” And with that, the knots were undone, the scarf pulled away and Dean’s wrists unbound at last. 

Frowning, Dean brought his hands around to the front to try to rub the circulation back into them. Before he could, Kili took over the task, kneeling before the chair. “Your hands are like ice,” Kili said soothingly. 

“I’ll be okay,” Dean assured him. He leaned forward to place a soft kiss on Kili’s lips. Dean saw a spark of lust in Kili’s eyes and pulled the raven-haired dwarf up onto his lap to chase after more kisses.

“Enough of that,” Thorin manhandled Kili off of Dean’s lap and moved him gently but firmly to the side. “We have work to do and not much time in which to accomplish it.”

Dean stood up and faced Thorin, which seemed ludicrous as he only came up to the King’s chin. “You’re pushy, and I don’t think I like you very much,” Dean professed.

“Good,” Thorin smiled coldly. “Then forcing you to come undone will be all the more satisfying for me.” Without pausing, Thorin latched onto Dean’s ass with one hand and his hair with the other; his mouth found Dean’s neck in the same spot as before. Dean left out an indignant noise and brought up a hand between their chests to push Thorin away. His other hand, more traitorous, slid up Thorin’s back and burrowed in his hair, pulling him closer.

Aidan couldn’t help grinning.

“ _Merag,_ ” Thorin murmured between the licking and sucking. “A feast. You are a banquet and I am starving.”

“We both are,” Kili agreed, tossing away his bracers and stepping up behind Dean. While Thorin marked up Dean’s neck, Kili wrapped an arm around his waist and slid one hand down the front of Dean’s sweatpants.

Dean let out a long, low groan and lay his head back on Kili’s shoulder. 

“I can only assume you have fucked him before, nephew?” Thorin asked, as if Dean weren’t there.

“Once, aye,” Kili told his uncle, running one finger up the vein on the underside of Dean’s dick. Dean trembled and reached around to grab onto Kili’s thigh, pulling him tighter to his posterior.

“And how did you prepare him?”

“Prepare him? Oh, the oil. He'd brought some oil. But… he did it himself,” Kili told Thorin, grinding his crotch teasingly against Dean’s rear. “Was that wrong?”

“It’s certainly practical,” Thorin said matter-of-factly, tweaking one of Dean’s nipples and eliciting a moan, “but let me show you another method, if I may. _Kidhuzel?_ ”

Dean, lost to their ministrations, realized Thorin was speaking to him. “Yes? Yes, of course, I couldn’t stop you now if I tried.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Thorin confirmed. “We must get you to bed.”

“Okay, easy enough,” Dean reached for Thorin’s hand, but Thorin had other ideas. He reached behind Dean, grasping him around the thighs and tossed him over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing. “Jesus!” Dean cried in surprise as Thorin carried him to Aidan’s bed.

Kili followed along behind, and Dean pleaded with his eyes for his friend to help him. Kili only grinned and shrugged, stripping off his shirt as he went.

Thorin didn’t dump Dean unceremoniously on the bed like a cave man as Dean was fearing he might. Instead, he exhibited an incredible amount of upper body strength and gently lowered him onto his back. As he did, Thorin’s long dark hair cascaded down over Dean’s face and chest and he had to fight the urge to bury himself in it.

Thorin locked eyes with him and seemed to drink him in as his hands swept down Dean’s flanks to the waistband of his sweatpants. Thorin peeled them down his thighs and calves, taking in every inch of exposed flesh as he did so. 

“There’s more to pleasuring another besides simply intercourse,” Thorin said, obviously for Kili’s benefit. “And this, of course, applies to both males and females,” he said, removing Dean’s socks one by one. 

Now, Dean was completely naked and vulnerable on the bed, looking expectantly at the other two. 

“We should join him in nudity, uncle,” Kili prompted, opening the drawstring on his trousers.

“Yes, yes of course,” Thorin agreed, unhooking his bracers, mail and two layers of shirts. Dean looked on, raptly attentive to each bit of flesh revealed. Kili stepped up behind Thorin and reached around his waist to undo Thorin’s trousers. Thorin didn’t protest, so Kili eased the garment down, allowing Dean his first glimpse of what lay beneath. 

Richard’s equipment was as perfect as the rest of him, as if he’d been molded by a skilled artisan. Dean smiled and felt that still traitorous hand reaching up to beckon Thorin to the bed. The body, the eyes, the hair! Dean was completely conflicted with how _dirty-fucked-up-wrong_ what they were doing was. Yet, at the same time, he was aching to take Thorin’s curving thick cock into his mouth and suck it until Richard cried for mercy. But, Thorin had other ideas.

“The mouth,” he told Kili, “is the ultimate sex organ.” Thorin climbed into bed on Dean’s left side and lowered his mouth to Dean’s ear. “You can whisper filthy, filthy things in his ear…” at which point Thorin whispered, almost indistinctly to Dean, “I am going to make your boyfriend so very jealous. Jealous of the sounds I coax out of you, And jealous that he’s not the one making them.”

Dean found himself involuntarily clutching a handful of sheet as Thorin spoke, a hand splayed on his chest. Kili moved closer and sat on the edge of the right side of the bed to watch.

“A mouth to his neck clearly has a strong effect, as we’ve already seen. But enough attention cannot be paid to nipple stimulation,” Thorin leaned down and closed his mouth over Dean’s left nipple, laving and sucking it with a skill that had Dean squirming reaching for Kili’s hand.

“I myself rather enjoy the muscular planes of the stomach, especially a well-maintained one,” Thorin told Kili, lowering his mouth over the flesh above Dean’s navel and placing several hickeys. “Nephew, try…” he reached for Kili and pulled his face down to Dean’s chest, encourage him to feast on Dean’s right nipple. 

Kili didn’t hesitate, although he tended to be more eager to use his teeth, then soothe the nibbled area with his tongue afterwards. He then worked his way down Dean’s stomach toward the trail of golden hair leading to his crotch.

Thorin, meanwhile, had sucked Dean’s ring and middle fingers into his mouth and was working them over with his tongue.

“Jesus fucking--,” Dean cried out, but the sound was swallowed when Kili devoured Dean’s mouth with his own. 

“Shh, Dean,” the impish brunet smiled down at him, and Dean cupped the back of his head. “Beautiful _âzyungâl._ ” He leaned down and whispered in Dean’s ear, “He’s no doubt a much more gifted lover than I am. I know this. But he cannot possibly love you more than I do, _bâhel._ ”

Dean nodded in agreement, pulling Kili down on top of him for a deep kiss.

“Clearly you know the right words to say, Kili,” Thorin smiled proudly. “Let us discover some new territory,” he stroked Kili’s cheek. Then, he reached below Dean’s right knee and bent it, pulling it up and out. “Hold this in place,” he prompted his nephew. 

This new position caused Dean to blush furiously, as it exposed his most secret places to the light and air. Neither Thorin or Kili seemed to mind in the slightest. Thorin’s eyes were glued to the spot and Kili’s hand trembled as he held Dean’s thigh in place. 

“This,” Thorin told Kili softly, “is one of the most crucial places you can put your mouth on another male. Say, for example, you’re caught in the throes of passion and have no oil or lubrication of any kind. Your mouth can take care of that for you.”

Dean twitched involuntarily between them, in preparation for what he knew was coming. 

“Watch closely,” Thorin told Kili, and began at Kili’s hand and kissed down the back of Dean’s trapped thigh, ghosting his warm breath around Dean’s leaking cock and balls and coming to rest on the rosebud opening below. “He smells incredible,” Thorin purred. “Let us see how he tastes.” In one swift motion, he lifted Dean’s other leg up and slightly to the left and licked a long, firm swipe across the pucker of flesh.

Dean gasped and reached blindly for Kili’s hand. Soon he forgot all about being embarrassed as Thorin gave him the tongue-fucking of his life. He nibbled, licked, teased and thrust through the tight ring of muscle with his talented tongue until Dean was literally writhing with pleasure. 

“Kili, your hand please,” Thorin requested, voice strained with his efforts.

Aidan was so hard his dick felt like a goddamn diamond. Richard Armitage was truly gifted. Too bad the blue-eyed Brit was so gifted at pleasuring _his_ boyfriend. He cursed himself for taking so much enjoyment in it and offered Thorin Kili’s hand.

Thorin took two of Kili’s long, slender fingers and slipped them easily halfway inside Dean. “Do you feel that small bump?” Thorin asked him. Kili nodded and rubbed against it experimentally. The action sent Dean arching off the bed and moaning in pleasure. “We males are fortunate enough to have this bump placed in just the right spot to make what might be a humiliating and painful act work to our own pleasurable advantage. A talented fornicator can find that lump with his organ at just the right time to make his lover climax. I want you to do that now, Kili.”

“Me?” Kili seemed surprised. “Aren’t you going to—?”

“Fuck your friend? No,” Thorin assured him. “ _You_ are. Let’s get you on your knees, Dean,” the King insisted, wiping his mouth, chin and beard on a handful of the sheet.

Pliant, Dean allowed the Durins to re-position him to their liking. He wound up facing the headboard, ass towards Kili, who still appeared stunned that Thorin had deferred to him at this very critical step. But Thorin hadn't taken himself out of the picture. He climbed onto the bed and lounged between Dean and the headboard. 

“I know you’re dying to get your mouth on this,” he caressed his erection and smiled at Dean. “Now’s your chance, _kidhuzel._ ”

Kili, meanwhile, had gotten onto his knees behind Dean. “Are you ready for me, _âzyungâl?_ ”

“Fuck yes,” Dean breathed. “Ready for you both,” his eyes found Thorin’s as he said this. “Want you inside me, Kili,” he affirmed.

Kili didn’t need a second invitation. He slowly, but deliberately lined up and edged his way inside Dean’s tight channel, beautifully lubricated and loosened by Thorin’s very talented mouth. When he was fully seated inside the blond, he caressed Dean’s flank, giving him a moment to adjust to the fullness. Thorin, meanwhile, had finally taken the opportunity to kiss Dean. Kili savored the way Dean's internal muscles fluttered as Thorin licked his way inside Dean’s mouth, and he had to force himself not to start rutting like a goddamn animal.

“Kili?” Dean gasped finally. “Are you going to fuck me or what?” 

Kili smacked his ass playfully and began slowly building up a rhythm with his hips. Ass in the air, Dean held on tightly to Thorin’s slim hips and licked his lips before devouring that gorgeous erection. Dean had never felt he was especially gifted at sucking cock, but he felt a strong need to prove himself to Thorin, especially after the actor’s astounding rim job. Thankfully, Kili’s hips provided a perfect rhythm for his licking, sucking mouth to pleasure Thorin. One of his hands snaked down to fondle the “crown jewels” as he French-kissed the tip of Thorin’s engorged organ. 

Moments later, Thorin’s hands drove into his hair and the King shot his load into Dean’s mouth. Dean could barely swallow, for by now Kili was nailing his prostate with every gyration of his hips. Thorin knew Dean was close and slithered down the bed to take Dean’s cock and balls in both hands. That was just the stimulation Dean needed to push his over-sensitized body over the edge. His vision whited over as he came with incredible intensity. He barely felt Kili’s fingernails digging into the flesh of his hips in ecstasy before he drifted off.

Dean heard soft murmurs in the haze that soon turned into the voices of his boyfriend and their bed-mate. He awoke to find himself on his back. Aidan was curled up on his chest and Richard was sitting on his other side, caressing his hair, a concerned look on his face. 

“All right then, Dean?” Richard asked him. 

“I think I saw the face of God,” Dean smiled blissfully. 

“I sure hope he looked like me,” Aidan grinned, squeezing him. Dean ruffled Kili's black wig tenderly.

“I want to thank you both for this,” Richard told them solemnly. “I know many people take sex lightly, but I want you to know that I’m not one of them. Not that this wasn’t great fun,” he smiled. “It was great, great fun,” he reiterated, rubbing Aidan’s ass. “I’m sorry if I made you feel taken advantage of in any way. I guess I’m just a giant fan-girl myself and wanted a chance in the sack with Kili and Fili.”

“Well, you got half of us anyway,” Aidan told him. “I was angry, at first.”

“Me too,” Dean confided. “I guess I’m way too possessive for my own good.”

“I won’t talk of this to anyone, of course,” Richard assured them, pulling on his clothing and armor. He leaned over and gave each of the actors a kiss on the mouth.

“No one would believe you anyway,” Aidan stuck his tongue out at him. “Richard, I must know… why didn’t you—” he broke off.

“Why didn’t I what?” Richard paused by the door.

“You laid all the groundwork, had him all hot and bothered, but you didn’t…” Aidan trailed off.

“He wants to know why you didn’t fuck me,” Dean finished for his boyfriend.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Richard smiled. “I'm not about to go fucking someone's real-life boyfriend. But I'd be perfectly content to fuck Fili.” He left, closing the door soundlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kidhuzel – the gold of gold (the most golden)  
> Merag – feast  
> Bâhel –best friend  
> Âzyungâl - lover


	10. Amis Amas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Graham decide that Aidan and Dean need to get out--and come out. This chapter also contains implied Graham/Adam and serious abuse of 80s music.

After Richard departed, Aidan and Dean were left in a very awkward silence.

“Would you mind if I stayed over?” Dean asked finally.

“Really?” Aidan smiled. “We’ve never done that before.”

“If you don’t want me to, I can go back to my—”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you to, Dean,” Aidan caressed his hair. “I’m just surprised.”

“You may be too when you see what I look like first thing in the morning,” Dean groaned as he climbed out of bed. “But, seriously, have you got any aspirin or other painkillers?” I have a feeling I’m going to need them. And I need a quick shower.” He strode, naked, to the small bathroom. Aidan admired his adorable little ass during his departure.

Things were all right, Aidan told himself as he removed the Kili wig and appliances. He got some aspirin and water for his boyfriend. Dean wanted to sleep over. With _him._ Everything was going to be okay.

Still, Aidan couldn’t sleep that night. He clung to Dean, whose head rested on his chest, long after the exhausted blond dozed off. He kept replaying the evening’s events in his mind. It was just a bit of fun. Nothing to worry about. Richard had just wanted a thrill.

But would Richard want more? Would Dean? Did Aidan? 

Aidan finally drifted into a thin sleep as early morning light started to trickle through the window blinds. The alarm went off an hour later. He groaned, and Dean kissed his forehead before climbing out of bed. It was going to be a long, long day.

“Thank God it’s Friday,” Dean muttered, starting a pot of coffee.

\------ 

True to his word, Richard acted as if nothing had happened. For that, they were both grateful.

“Graham and I found a new club,” Nesbitt told Dean and Aidan during afternoon break. “A few of us are hitting it up tonight. You lads care to join us?”

“Who’s going?” Dean wondered, handing a can of Coke to Aidan.

“Graham, Adam, me… probably Richard and Martin,” James enumerated. “The place is called Rubix. Rumor has it they play all 1980s music.”

“Sounds, like, totally awesome,” Dean smiled. “Aid, you up for it?”

“Sure, after I get my second wind… or maybe a nap,” the brunet yawned.

“Dean,” James clapped the blond on the back, “you have got to let this young man get his rest.” He smiled mysteriously and wandered off.

“I’m the one with a sore ass,” Dean lamented, once Nesbitt was out of earshot. “I am feeling the need to get positively paralytic this evening.”

“Get _what?_ ” Aidan asked for clarification. “Oh, you mean pissed.”

“Potted,” Dean nodded. “Let’s get drunk with the boys. And no costumes this time, _nadad?_ ”

Aidan gave a thumbs-up in agreement, finishing up his highly-caffeinated beverage as Jackson called them all back to the sound stage.

“Do the lads know you’re dragging them to a gay bar?” Graham asked, clapping James heartily on the back.

“Not yet,” Nesbitt smiled mischievously, “but they’ll thank me for it.”

\------ 

“Damnit, James,” Aidan exclaimed, grabbing the older man’s arm. “You’ve brought us to a gay bar!”

“Funny,” Graham mused. “It didn’t mention that in the Rubix brochure.”

“The giant rainbow flag should have tipped you off,” Aidan scolded him.

James pulled his friends to the front of the queue and murmured something in the ear of the doorman, who unhooked the velvet rope to usher James and his friends inside the bar. 

The interior was a throwback to the 1980s—stainless steel fixtures with black table tops and multi-colored neon everywhere. _Dance Hall Days_ by Wang Chung blared from the speakers. 

“I’m either in heaven,” Martin tapped his foot involuntarily, “or hell. I can’t decide which.”

“This way!” James called over the din. “I’ve reserved us a table.”

“And Nesbitt is the devil,” Aidan said darkly.

“Aw, Aid,” Dean took his hand and pulled him along after James. “It’ll be fun. It’s obvious; James and Graham did this for us. They’re all here for us. Least we could do is enjoy it.”

“I’m here for _me,_ ” Graham sauntered by, shaking his hips to the beat as he went.

“I’m here for Graham,” Adam waggled his eyebrows and followed.

“I’m here to get very, very intoxicated,” Richard told Aidan and Dean, smiling. “Are you with me, mates?”

\------ 

“Lagers and shots all around!” James proclaimed, setting a tray laden with beverages in the center of the table. To his credit, James had gotten them a perfect, comfortable round table overlooking the dance floor, but secluded enough for them to converse without shouting.

“Oh, James,” Martin sighed and rolled his eyes. “We can’t.”

“It’s the weekend!” Adam shook Martin’s shoulder vigorously. “We can do pretty much whatever the fuck we want tonight, old man!” To punctuate his statement, the bespeckled actor grabbed a shot and downed it. “Oh, James,” he sputtered. “That is vile. I’ll require another just to get the taste out of my mouth!”

“I love this kid!” Graham exclaimed, pulling Adam onto his lap and kissing him on the cheek. Adam turned a brilliant shade of pink and grabbed a beer as the music gave way to _Walk Like An Egyptian_.

“Kid?!” Adam sputtered. “I’ll have you know I’m thirty-th—“

“Oh lad, shaddup!” Graham groused, covering Adam’s mouth with his own. Adam melted into Graham’s embrace.

“Drink up, mates!” James ordered.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Richard muttered, reaching for a beer and shot glass.

“Very well,” Martin agreed. “If I’m going to have to watch Graham molest Adam all night, I shall need some fortification.” He grabbed two shots and downed them in rapid succession. His companions cheered.

“So,” Dean leaned towards Martin and asked him quietly. “Have Adam and Graham been together a long time?”

“I just found out about it myself,” Martin told him. 

“ _Amis amas,_ ” Richard told them, leaning in from Martin’s other side.

“Is that Khuzdul?” Dean wondered. Martin shrugged.

“It’s French,” Richard told them. “ _Amis amas_. Friends who have fun. Friends _with benefits._ ” he smiled warmly at Dean, eyebrows raised. “You and Aidan… you’re more than that though, n'est-ce pas?” 

Dean looked over to where Aidan and James were locked in intense conversation comparing the Bangles to the Go Go’s.

“I believe so,” Dean admitted, unconsciously chewing on his lower lip as he watched Aidan animatedly waving his hands around. He smiled. “Yes, I think we are. I want us to be.”

“To true love!” Martin proposed a toast to the group, a suggestion met with cheers and groans.

“I’ll go get us another round,” Richard got up and went to the bar.

 ------

“I never realized what a workout The Electric Slide could be,” Martin dropped into his seat, picking up his fourth beer. 

“Those lads are like Energizer bunnies,” James told Richard and Martin as they watched Adam, Dean, Aidan and Graham on the dance floor gyrating to Billy Idol’s _Mony, Mony._ “And Graham, well,” he chucked. “He’s a lucky, lucky man right now.”

“Aidan and Dean are just adorable,” Martin noted. “They seem so happy together. It was fated, I suppose.”

“How you figure, fated?” Richard put his arm over the back of Martin’s chair and took a long pull on his beer.

“Well, having to spend so much time together on set—and no doubt off, working on lines and such; portraying brothers, bonding. They fell for each other. It happens,” Martin shrugged, smiling as, on the dance floor, Aidan wrapped an arm around Dean from behind and gyrated against him.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” James leaned in towards the other two conspiratorially, “and this may just be the lager talking… but if I were Dean, I’d have Aidan dressed as Kili round the clock.”

“Are you lusting after a Dwarf?” Martin chuckled. 

“I rather prefer Fili myself,” Richard told them. “But then, gentlemen do prefer blondes. Which Dwarf would you shag if you could, Freeman?” Richard locked his blue eyes on Martin’s.

Martin cleared his throat audibly. “This is a very awkward conversation,” he looked around for more alcohol, and found it in the form of an un-claimed shot which he downed quickly. “Fan fiction would, of course, pair Bilbo with Thorin,” he began.

“I’m talking about Martin, not Bilbo,” Richard told him. “Who does Martin want?”

“Martin wants to keep that private,” Martin smiled, blushing.

“It’s Bofur, isn’t it?” James grinned.

“Oh, you wish it were, Nesbitt,” Martin returned the gesture. “I-I’m going for the next round.”

James and Richard burst into laughter after he left.

As the song ended, the club’s disc jockey picked up his microphone and announced, “Good evening, ladies and gents! We’re coming up on eleven o’clock, and you know what that means! Game time! Tonight we’re trying something a little different. Get your beverages now and settle into your seats. We hope you like your table-mates, because tonight we’re going to play Gay Chicken! The fun starts after this song!”

“What the hell is Gay Chicken?” Martin asked Richard over the strains of _Walk The Dinosaur._ He placed a tray of drinks on the table.

“Have another drink, Martin,” James encouraged. “You’re going to love it.”


	11. Gay Chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got nuthin.' *shrugs*

“What the hell is Gay Chicken?” Aidan asked, rejoining the group.

“I hope the rules aren’t too complicated,” Adam grinned, sitting down. “I’m rather intoxicated right now.”

Graham cupped the younger man’s cheek. “If it involves being sexy, darlin’, you’ll do just fine.” Adam threw his arms around the older man and hugged him tightly.

“Each of you received a colored sticker when you arrived tonight,” the D.J./emcee announced. “ There are six different colors that just happen to coincide with the Pride flag: red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple. If I call out your color, you’re in the hot seat.”

Looking around the table, the companions noticed they all had different colored stickers, except for Richard and Graham, who had both ended up with green. Richard looked completely at ease, one arm thrown over the back of Martin’s chair. Martin unconsciously rubbed at the small red circle on his lapel and sipped a beer. 

“Yellows!” the emcee called out, and James groaned at the mention of his color. “Your task is…. physically remove the shirt of someone at your table. It must be someone that you have never been intimate with!” 

“Oh dear,” Martin sighed. “I imagine it only gets worse from here.”

And it did, for the strains of _I’m Too Sexy_ began playing. “Shirt removal applies to men or women!” The emcee reminded the room. “We don’t judge here at Rubix!”

“Well, someone has to go first,” James chuckled nervously. “And, as I haven’t had the pleasure of knowing any of you carnally, much to my dismay,” he patted Aidan on the shoulder, “I have my pick of the lot.” He walked around the table and considered his options, then settled upon Dean. “Since you don’t seem to have a problem taking it off for the camera,” he told the blond, “let’s check you out. On your feet, laddie.”

To much cheering and applause, Dean stood and pulled the orange sticker off his shirt. James moved in behind him and began lasciviously unbuttoning Dean's black button down shirt until he was able to remove it. Naked to the waist, Dean bowed gracefully and stuck the orange sticker to the skin over his heart. James tossed the garment to Aidan.

“You’ll get yours, Nesbitt,” Dean said under his breath, smiling.

“Purples!” the emcee announced, and Adam yelped. “Give a hug to someone you’ve always wanted to!”

Adam got up, and without hesitation, threw himself at Richard. “Hello!” Graham exclaimed. “Didn’t take long to make up your mind, did it, lad?”

“The choice was obvious,” Richard purred, squeezing Adam. 

“Reds!” the emcee called out.

“Oh, Christ,” Martin whimpered. Dean patted him on the shoulder consolingly.

“Reds, you have the glorious pleasure of asking any two people at your table to kiss for 10 seconds. You cannot be one of them.”

“Oh, well,” Martin brightened. “I rather _like_ this one.” He eyed his table-mates for a few seconds, then announced, “Aidan, kiss Dean.”

“No fair!” Adam cried out. “They kiss all the time!”

“Well, I, for one, have never seen it, but would like to,” Martin told the table. “My color, my choice. Kiss!”

“Kiss!” James echoed. Soon the entire table was chanting the word, in rather Dwarven fashion. 

“All right! All right!” Blushing Aidan pulled Dean to his feet and drew his shirtless boyfriend into his arms. “Here we go then,” he whispered in the blond’s ear and began kissing him. He must have lost track of time or his hands got lost in the feel of Dean’s warm flesh and hands on his ass. He came back to himself to the sound of applause. Dean was smiling up at him, looking slightly dazed.

“I believe I need a cold shower now,” Martin muttered, reaching for his beer. “Thanks for that, lads.”

“Anytime,” Dean told him, eyes locked on Aidan’s.

“Greens!” the emcee continued. “Give a two-minute backrub to someone you have never touched intimately before.” The song playing changed to _Do Ya Think I’m Sexy_ by Rod Stewart.

Graham got to his feet and positioned himself behind Aidan. “Most people pay for this talent, Turner. Count yourself lucky,” he breathed in his ear.

“Oooh,” Aidan groaned sinfully as Graham began working his shoulders. “I _am_ very, very lucky.”

Richard took his time and finally chose Martin. “You seem a little tense,” he told his friend. “Let’s work on that.”

“I’m not tense, not at—oh my!” Martin exclaimed. “I _was_ tense. Very tense. But it’s improving,” he sighed. “You know, I have come to fancy this game.”

“Oranges!” the emcee called out. “Sit on green’s lap.”

“We have two greens,” Dean frowned. 

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Graham challenged Richard.

Richard won. Dean sat. “Hi Richard,” he smiled. “Having a good time?”

“It’s not exactly what I expected. I also seem to remember Gay Chicken being a little different. I thought you were supposed to see how far the other person would go, and out-do him.”

Dean leaned over and murmured in his ear, “We kinda did that last night.” 

Richard chuckled, cutting his eyes to Aidan, who looked rather unhappy with Richard’s victory. “Up you go then,” he heaved the blond off his lap. “Don’t want Kili to get jealous. Aidan, I mean. Aidan. Who’s ready for another round of drinks?”

“Not you, I’m thinking,” Martin cautioned.

“I’m not drunk. It was just a slip,” Richard assured him. “Be back soon.”

“Blues!” the emcee called out. “Whisper something dirty in someone’s ear.”

Sighing, Aidan stood and walked over to Graham purposefully. “Dwalin is a sweet, sexy bastard,” he told the Scotsman, his voice almost indiscernible. “Kili has always admired him.”

“And on that note,” Aidan turned to his table-mates, I’ve got to visit the loo. Back in a few.” 

“Hurry back, Romeo,” Adam called. “Don’t want to miss another turn!”

Aidan was trying to hard not to be jealous, but seeing Dean looking so comfortable on Richard’s lap had made his temper flare. He truly had nothing against the handsome Brit, but how he wished they’d never included Richard in their costumed escapades! Frowning, he smacked the wall above the urinal. 

He checked himself out in the mirror while washing his hands, fixed up his tousled hair a bit and left the restroom. On his way past the bar, he was stopped by a voice. “Aidan Turner? Is that you?”

He turned to see a tall, attractive blonde in his mid-20s. “Yes, I’m Aidan.”

“I’m Drake. I just wanted to tell you that I love your work. I’m a huge fan of _Being Human,_ ” the man told him, offering his hand to shake. “Do you have time for a drink? I’d love to get you one. What do you like?” He patted the barstool next to him. 

“Um, sure,” Aidan said, noticing Dean laughing again, sidling up to Richard. “I have time for a drink. Scotch and soda, if you don’t mind,” he hopped up on the stool next to Drake.

Drake nodded to the bartender, who mixed the drink and sat the glass on the bar. While Aidan was busy watching his friends, Drake produced a small bottle of clear liquid from his pocket, leaned over and surreptitiously poured some into the tumbler. “Here you go,” he picked up the drink, swirling it a bit, and handed it to Aidan. “So, what brings you to Wellington?”

“I’m filming _The Hobbit,_ ” Aidan began telling the handsome man, taking a sip of the drink. “Those are some of my cast mates at that big table over there,” he nodded towards them, taking another sip.

“Looks like Aidan made a friend,” James cautioned Dean. “Good looking chap, too. Tall,” he noted.

Dean turned to observe the big blond chatting up his boyfriend. It seemed like they were just talking; he was probably just a fan. He wasn’t about to freak over talking—yet. The emcee called out another ridiculous order, which found James giving Adam a very poorly-executed lap dance. Dean chuckled. 

“You and the little shirtless guy together?” Drake wondered. “He’s cute.”

“That he is,” Aidan agreed. “And yes, we’re together. For a few months now.” Aidan suddenly felt the long day and too little sleep beginning to catch up with him. He yawned, as the room began to waver around him. “I’m sorry, Drake,” he told the blond. “I really hate to be rude, as it was very nice meeting you, but I think it’s time I headed home. I’m really tired.” He swiped his hand across his eyes. “I didn’t get much sleep last night and I’m kinda dizzy.”

“You do look a little pale,” Drake appeared concerned. “Maybe you need some fresh air?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Aidan tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness crashed over him and nearly pulled him under. He groaned, steadying himself against the bar.

“Let’s get you outside, tiger,” Drake tossed a pair of twenties on the bar and eased himself under one of Aidan’s arms, pulling it over his shoulder to support him. His other arm was secured around Aidan’s slim waist. Drake took a quick glimpse at Aidan’s friends and realized none of them were paying them any attention. He used the opportunity to steer a very pliant Aidan out the nearby door into the parking lot.

“Hey,” Graham said suddenly to his friends, “where’s Aidan gone?”

“The blond’s missing too,” James noted. “You don’t think—”

Dean shot to his feet, “Aidan wouldn’t leave with a stranger like that, if that’s what you’re implying!” he frowned, pulling on his shirt “I’m going to go find him. Stay here; don’t leave without us.”

It was chilly in the parking lot, and Aidan wanted desperately to get away from Drake. “No, Drake,” he insisted. “Lemme go. Take me back inside!” but his words were coming out garbled.

“It’s going to be okay, Aidan,” Drake tightened the arm around Aidan’s waist. “Just let me get you home and you can lay down.”

“No,” Aidan tried to push away from him, but his limbs seemed unable to obey. “No!”

Drake brought them to a halt next to a black SUV. The big blond leaned Aidan against the passenger side door, holding him upright with his hip as he got out his keys. Aidan knew if he was put into that car, he was fucked—in more ways than one—so he made one more desperate attempt at escape. Using a basic self-defense maneuver he’d learned in Dwarven Boot Camp, he kicked out hard at Drake’s knee. His would-be abductor crumbled, cursing, and Aidan pulled away, only to fall dizzily to the pavement, betrayed by his drugged body. 

Drake hauled Aidan up by the collar of his maroon shirt and backhanded him across the cheek. Aidan’s head struck the side of the car with the force of the blow and his world grayed out around him. “I don’t want to mess up your pretty face, Aidan. Don’t make me hit you again,” Drake told him, opening the car door as Aidan sagged in his grip.

“Hey!” a voice called from the door of the club. “Hey! Let him go!” feet were running towards Drake’s vehicle as Drake eased Aidan into the passenger seat and shut the door. 

Drake turned to face Dean. “Ah, the boyfriend,” Drake sized up his opponent. “Aidan’s a little under the weather right now.”

“What did you do to him?” Dean menaced. 

“He just needed some air,” Drake raised his hands non-threateningly, yet stayed between Dean and vehicle.

“You need to open that door and let him out of your truck,” Dean told him. “Now.”

“Or what?” Drake smiled. 

“Or ‘boyfriend’ will kick your ass,” Dean informed him, assuming a fighting stance.

“And if he doesn’t, we will,” Richard spoke up from behind Drake, where he and the others had assembled. “You seem like a smart fellow. Step aside so we can retrieve our friend. Then you can be on your way.”

Drake knew there was no way he could overpower six men. He took his keys from his pocket and walked away from the passenger door, unlocking it. “He’s all yours. More trouble than he’s worth.”

Dean rushed forward and opened the door, pulling Aidan out into his arms. 

“D’n,” Aidan breathed. “Put sumth’n’ in m’drink. M’sorry,” he tried to raise his arms to hug Dean but they wouldn’t cooperate. His knees buckled and Dean struggled to keep him upright. Graham swooped in quickly, scooping Aidan up under the knees and shoulders before he could hit the pavement.

“I’d suggest you leave while you can,” James told Drake. “Oh, and as we’ve memorized your license plate, I’d suggest packing a few suitcases when you get home.”

Sneering, Drake got into his car and peeled out of the parking lot.

“Well, that was exhilarating,” Martin deadpanned. “When you promise a fun night out, you boys deliver.”

“Let’s get Aidan home,” Dean insisted. “And thank you, guys, for following me.”

“You really didn’t think we would let you go out here all alone, did you?” Adam squeezed Dean’s arm.

“Mr. Dwalin?” Aidan mumbled sleepily, “Put me down.”

“He’s going to be pretty much useless for awhile,” Graham chuckled, pulling Aidan’s limp form affectionately to his chest. “Entertaining, but useless.”

“Swear to God,” Dean said weakly, “he was out of our sight for what—five minutes?” 

“Worse than Kili,” James observed. “Definitely some type-casting at work, eh?” he opened the car door so Graham could ease Aidan inside.

“If I had hesitated just a minute or so longer…” Dean speculated, allowing Aidan’s head to rest against his shoulder and clinging to him tightly. Dean's hands were shaking.

“But you didn’t,” Richard assured him.

“I didn’t,” Dean repeated, nodding. “I didn’t,” he whispered into Aidan’s hair.


	12. Topaz (A Time-Stamp)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prequel time-stamp for the “All Your Golden Glory” ‘verse. Before the roleplay, before they were out to their cast mates, they were just two men trying to figure out where to put their dicks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for Butterballs, inspired by her story "Domination Altercation." 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/693700
> 
> (In which Kili and Fili cannot decide who's going to bottom. "I would really, really love to see an Aidan/Dean version of this except I can’t write RPS to save my life, so someone please get on that. PLEASE," she said.) 
> 
> Here you go, darlin'.

“I’m not afraid,” Dean bit his lip. “Not of the pain.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” Aidan pressed, running his warm lips along Dean’s bare flank.

“I don’t know. Giving up control, I guess.”

“Control of what?” Aidan smiled against Dean’s hip.

“Of my ass!” he chuckled nervously.

“What makes you think you have control of it now?” Aidan sank his teeth softly but possessively into the aforementioned part of Dean’s body. The blond moaned gently and wiggled. Aidan growled like a puppy with a chew toy. Dean felt compelled to pet Aidan’s dark curls.

“I know what the rest of the cast thinks of me,” Dean said quietly. “I’ve kissed men, on camera. Been naked too; often. But that doesn’t mean I’m experienced, or a slut.”

Aidan didn’t know how to respond to this, but tried. “We’re actors, Dean. Sometimes we have to show more of ourselves than we’d like. I know I have.”

“I could have said no,” Dean told him simply. 

“And deprive the world of Bragi’s adorable ass?” Aidan squeezed Dean’s bum affectionately. Dean huffed. “Truth is,” Aidan admitted, “I’m in over my head with you, Dean.”

Dean understood immediately what Aidan meant. Although they’d both had their share of onscreen gay and semi-gay encounters, both had always been straight in their day-to-day lives. And they hadn’t fallen in love with one another overnight. There was no magical symphony in Dean’s head the day he met Aidan, nor did Aidan find Dean surrounded by chirping cartoon birds and hearts when he was introduced as the replacement Fili.

Through work, they’d developed a tentative partnership; the partnership turned to friendship. And the brotherly friendship, after a time, became more. A confession led to a kiss, which led to better things. Now, a month later, they’d reached a point in their relationship where they were both thinking it was high time they fucked. 

They both knew and understood enough about the physical act to both respect and fear it. Knowing that they wanted it to be special, they’d rented a room at the five-star InterContinental Wellington one weekend. Their bodies were both still flushed from the relaxing heat of the room’s full size Jacuzzi and they lay naked on a polar bearskin rug surrounded by pillows before a roaring fire trying to figure out what should happen next.

Dean had fallen hard for Aidan. He loved the way his gorgeous face could go from a huge smile to intense brooding, and back, in less than sixty seconds. He loved his dark sense of humor and willingness to try anything. He worshiped Aidan’s hair and took great pleasure in watching his hands while he spoke. His accent alone could give Dean a hard-on.

Aidan admired Dean’s many artistic endeavors, but especially his acting. He adored Dean’s thick golden curls—and that he wasn’t obsessed with having his tight little body be hairless. He loved that Dean’s fur continued on his chest and legs, and delighted in touching and tasting him everywhere. He loved Dean’s gentlemanly ways, and the bad-ass underneath.

The fire crackled and they simply lay together. Finally, they both spoke simultaneously.

“I’ll bottom if you want.”

“I’d like you to fuck me.”

It was at that moment they truly _knew_ they were in love.

It came down to positioning. Aidan was already on his stomach and Dean took advantage of it. 

“Put this under your hips, love,” Dean handed two pillows to the Irishman. A bit of shifting and Aidan had obeyed, his gorgeous caramel colored behind perfectly displayed in the firelight. Aidan was terribly embarrassed; Dean could tell. He immediately set about making him feel at ease. “You are so beautiful, Aid,” Dean told him, climbing to his knees behind him, hands ghosting down Aidan’s back. “I could just sit here and look at you all night.”

“I rather hope you’ll do more than look,” Aidan chuckled. But Dean _did_ look, because damned if his boyfriend didn’t look like a work of art against the white furry rug and beige pillows. The glow of the fire on the dips and sinews of Aidan’s body left Dean’s mouth dry and sped up his heart.

“There are so many things I want to do to you,” Dean said, voice tight and low with lust, “I don’t know where to start.” But his hand was already reaching for the bottle of almond-scented massage oil he’d brought along. He coated his hands liberally and started at Aidan’s feet, using his talented fingers and thumbs to elicit pleasured moans from the brunet as he worked up his thighs, paid scant attention his ass and began massaging Aidan’s shoulders and back. He had to admit the oil added even more glow and appeal to Aidan’s flushed skin. He truly began to resemble a finely-cut topaz on display.

Dean paid a great deal of attention to Aidan’s hands, as he loved them so very much. And, it gave him a chance to look into Aidan’s deep brown eyes as he worked. He sucked one of Aidan’s long index fingers into his mouth and ran his tongue around the perimeter, moaning sinfully. Aidan found himself clenching the polar bear’s thick fur with his other hand. 

“My dick’s as hard as a diamond right now,” Aidan gasped. Dean too was hard and dripping, Aidan’s roaming eyes noted. He unconsciously licked his lips as if he desperately wanted a taste. Dean’s cock twitched in response and he moved around behind his lover again.

This time, Dean didn’t hesitate. He coated his fingers with more oil and began working Aidan’s gluteal muscles with both hands, spreading his cheeks a little further each time until the sight of Aidan’s furled opening became too enticing. He worked his fingers around and around the tight muscle as Aidan sighed in contentment. He actually felt the moment Aidan opened for him and allowed him to slip one slick finger inside, then a second. Adding still more oil, the blond began the delicious, teasing task of slowly working his boyfriend open. With one hand steadying Aidan on the small of his back, he thrust and scissored, occasionally flirting with the nub of Aidan’s prostate, which he’d been lucky enough to discover pretty quickly.

Aidan had gotten over his initial embarrassment and instead gave himself over to Dean’s manipulations. “God, D’n,” he mumbled. “Feels so, so good. Won’t last much longer.”

“Me either,” Dean confessed, “but I want to make sure you’re totally ready. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Aid.”

“I feel ready,” Aidan told him. “Maybe add another finger?” 

Dean rubbed gentle circles above the dip of Aidan’s spine and worked a third finger into his lover. With a crook of the digits, he again nudged the spot that jolted Aidan’s arousal up another notch. 

“I’m going to start fucking myself on your hand if you don’t stick your dick in me, Dean,” Aidan proclaimed. 

“Oooh, I like the sound of that,” Dean purred. “Do it, Aidan,” he challenged. 

“I hate you so much right now,” Aidan huffed. Yet, he didn’t hesitate to pull himself to his knees and grind back against Dean’s digits, seeking out that delicious burning friction he so desperately craved. Sinuously he moved his hips as Dean held his hand steady. Dean could have come from just watching that alone. 

“You’re right. This is torture,” he patted Aidan fondly on the rump. “I’ve gotta get in there,” Dean told him. 

“Do it!” Aidan prompted. “Please, Dean. Want you. Feels like I’m in heat or something,” he whined.

Dean quickly picked up the oil and coated his erection. Sliding up behind Aidan, he lined up and slowly worked his way inside. He made sure to wrap his other hand around Aidan’s cock, to give him something to focus on besides the potential pain.

“Wow,” Aidan breathed. “Just… wow.” His hips stuttered twice as Dean’s cock head brushed over his prostate. “So full.”

“Does it hurt?”

“A little, not bad. Feels so weird,” he admitted. “Can you move? Try to find that spot again?”

Dean did begin to thrust, but only a tiny bit at first. It felt so amazing being balls deep in Aidan that he just wrapped his arms around Aidan’s slim waist and savored the skin to skin contact for a few moments.

“Dean, please,” Aidan’s voice was hoarse. “Please, move.”

“Okay, love, okay,” Dean started to pump a bit more, angling his hips experimentally to try to find the prostate. He knew the second he’d been successful as Aidan keened and his long fingers curled becomingly. The sound went straight to Dean’s cock and caused him to pick up the pace.

“Love, you,” Aidan moaned. “Love you so much, Dean,” he had dropped down to his elbows, which allowed Dean to enter him just the slightest bit further and harder. “Oh god, oh god, oh, god,” was the litany that came from Aidan’s parted, wet mouth.

Even though Dean had actually played a god on television, this was the first time he’d ever felt like one. He began stripping Aidan’s cock in time with his gyrations and soon the brunet came like gangbusters, crying Dean's name. Dean was only three short thrusts behind him. Dean pulled out as gently as possible and fell panting next to his sated boyfriend. 

“Why did we wait so long to do that?” Aidan threw his arms around Dean and snuggled into his shoulder.

“I have no idea,” Dean curled his fingers in Aidan’s hair and kissed his forehead.

“Let’s take a little nap,” Aidan suggested, "then another soak. Then I propose to eat your sweet ass open and stuff you like a turkey. How’s that work for you, love?”

Dean’s dick gave a tiny twitch in agreement. “That sounds like a plan, Aid. A very, very good plan.”


	13. Vacillation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean begins having doubts.

One by one, they comforted Dean before leaving his trailer.

“You were wonderful,” Adam told him, eyes shining solemnly. “So brave. Aidan’s very lucky to have you.”

“That he is lad,” Graham affirmed. “And you him. A tiger, that one. Protect you to the end.”

They left, arm in arm.

“Can I get anything for you?” Martin seemed nervous. 

“We just need to sleep, Martin,” Dean told him. “Well, _I_ need to sleep. Aidan’s got a jump start already.” He eyed his deeply sleeping boyfriend sadly.

“I should like to hug you before I go,” Martin told him, and did just that. “I had a wonderful time tonight, despite myself.”

“We did as well,” Dean told him. “Honestly.”

James had been sitting by Aidan’s side since they’d gotten him into bed. “I did a terrible job keeping an eye on him tonight,” he said sadly, eyes brimming with actual tears.

“James, no,” Dean told him. “That’s not your job. We’re all grown men.”

“It’s no secret I have a soft spot in my heart for him,” James sniffed, moving an errant strand of hair from Aidan’s forehead. “I suppose, were I to have a son, I’d want him to be like Aidan.” He cleared his throat and stood. “At any rate,” he patted Dean on the shoulder, “should you need anything, in the night, come fetch me. My trailer’s just across the way.”

Dean nodded. “I will. Goodnight, James,” he hugged the dewy-eyed actor warmly before he left. 

Dean found Richard sitting on the couch, nursing a beer he’d snagged from the small refrigerator. Dean curled up two cushions away, pulling an afghan around himself for warmth. 

“You have a nice little place here,” Richard told him. “Sleek, classy.”

Dean scoffed. “It’s a trailer, Richard.”

“Well, I love what you’ve done with the place,” he chuckled darkly, finishing the beer in one long pull. “Dean?”

“Hrm?”

“Can you tell me that what happened to Aidan tonight isn’t somehow my fault?” 

“Why the hell would it be your fault?” Dean wondered. “You didn’t drug him and drag him outside.”

“Wow, you really are oblivious,” Richard huffed. “I thought it was an act, but it’s true.”

“Oblivious? About what?”

“He’s crazy about you, Dean. And jealous of me. Jealous of any attention you pay to me,” Richard stood and took the empty bottle to the sink. “And I instigated all this.”

“We were all on board with what happened, Richard,” Dean reminded him.

“Were we?” Richard’s ice blue eyes locked with his, and he looked particularly dangerous. “Or was Aidan just going along to make you happy?”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, he would. And I fear he did. He is so in love with you. Maybe even more than he realizes,” the brunet sat back down on the couch.

Dean didn’t speak for a moment, but was replaying in his mind the evening Thorin and Kili had so completely ravaged him. “I—I guess I just didn’t see it.” He bit his lip nervously. “I thought we all agreed it was a bit of fun.”

“It was fun. Fun I had hoped we might be able to repeat at some point,” Richard spoke frankly. “But I don’t think Aidan’s heart is in it, Dean.”

Dean grew quiet. “You’re right,” he said sadly. “Too bad. I had really looked forward to Fili and Thorin getting it on,” he smiled wistfully.

Richard shook his head. “Fili and _Richard,_ ” he corrected. “ _I_ want Fili. Me. Not Thorin.”

Dean’s mouth suddenly went very dry. “Oh,” was all he could say, and his eyes danced nervously away. He knew he had reached a very critical juncture. This was not something Aidan would condone. But, hadn’t they agreed that if they were roleplaying it was just for fun? Then, he sighed. Aidan had been talking to Drake earlier that night because he was angry at Richard and Dean for flirting with each other, even though it was part of the game. Was he comfortable with Aidan being so possessive? 

Did _he_ want to share Aidan with anyone else? Dean’s mind flew to pictures he’d seen on the Internet of Aidan and Sarah Green arm in arm. In an interview she’d claimed to be his girlfriend. She was very beautiful and Aidan looked so very happy.

Then, his mouth betrayed him. “Aidan’s flying home for the long weekend in a couple weeks to visit family—and Sarah.” Dean was surprised with the venom with which her name spat from his mouth. “Maybe then we could… you know?” He shrugged.

Richard nodded, but not in agreement. “We’ll see, Dean. I won’t be the one to break up what you two have.” 

“I’m sure we can do that just fine on our own,” Dean smiled ruefully, getting two more beers from the refrigerator and handing them to Richard. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “I just want to check on him.”

Richard watched Dean through the open bedroom door. He sat down gently next to Aidan’s sleeping form. The curly-haired actor lay on his side, blankets pulled up to his shoulders. Dean drew the covers higher on Aidan’s body and placed a kiss to his temple. Then, in a gesture more characteristic of Fili than Dean, he lay his own forehead against Aidan’s. His shoulders were shaking and Richard thought he might be crying. 

That was confirmed a few minutes later when Dean came out of the bedroom shutting the door behind him. “I’m ready for that beer now,” he told Richard, swiping his eyes with the back of his hand.


	14. Q & A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Richard talk.

“So, when did you know?” Dean asked Richard, after his third beer.

“Know what?” Richard smiled around the neck of his bottle.

“Know that you wanted Fili,” Dean clarified.

“Well,” Richard gave it a moment’s thought. “It was probably the first time I saw you fully made up and costumed. When I first met you I thought you were attractive enough, but when you had all that hair, and the extra girth… it just added something more.” Richard shrugged. “Plus—and you probably don’t even realize it—when you become Fili, you exude sex and confidence.”

“Sex and confidence, huh?” Dean blushed. “Sounds like a bad Marilyn Manson song.”

“Scoff all you want. It’s true. Fili is a sexy beast.”

“You know, every part we play as actors, we bring a bit of ourselves to,” Dean shrugged. “Fili’s right here, man,” he put his hand over his heart.

“I see him,” Richard admitted. “Honestly, Dean, I have a kink for Fili’s hair. It’s shameless and shallow. What can I say?”

“It is pretty hot, right?” Dean belched. “Oh man, I have had way too much beer tonight.”

“Hey, you’re at home. Tomorrow’s Saturday. It’s okay,” Richard assured him, putting his hand over Dean’s on the back ledge of the couch.

“When did you first know you were gay?” Dean asked him, not pulling his hand away.

“What makes you think I am?” Richard challenged. 

“Well, bi then, at least? When did you know you felt attracted to other men enough to want to have sex with them?” Dean avoided pointing out the fact that he’d had Richard’s dick in his mouth the previous evening.

“Oh, well,” Richard blushed. “You like the blunt questions, do you?” He chuckled. “This is going to make you laugh.”

“Well, good. I need to laugh,” Dean grinned.

“I was younger, in my early 20s. Had some flings.” Richard shrugged. “Never anything too serious. I lived with someone for about five years in my early 30s. It was very tempestuous. Too much work. It shouldn’t be work,” he posited, then added, almost inadibily, “I used to wank watching you.”

“What?” Dean nearly choked on his beer. “That’s… random, don’t you think?”

“Well, not you per se,” Richard clarified. “It was that horrible show you did in the late 1990s. Young Hercules. Your character was a bit of a stunner. Iolaus?”

“That show was… dreadful,” Dean admitted. 

“But you looked amazing. Those leather pants, and that hair.”

“Again with the hair…”

“I would dream of getting Iolaus alone—burying my face in those curls, and getting him out of those pants. He had the hottest little ass on the planet. I realize that it was a show for kids, which makes me a big, fat pervert, I’m sure,” Richard blushed.

“Hey, I was legal,” Dean offered. “The hair _was _kickin’. Very high maintenance, though,” he admitted.__

__“You still have an amazing ass,” Richard told him. His voice grew low and dangerous. “Iolaus was fantastic toss fodder.”_ _

__“I think we’re onto something with the leather pants,” Dean squirmed uncomfortably, Richard’s deep baritone voice having caused a definite reaction below his waist. “I used to fantasize about Sir Guy.”_ _

__“You didn’t!”_ _

__“Black leather, eyeliner… liked to tie up other guys for fun,” Dean shrugged. “Seemed like a pretty complete package to me,” he chuckled._ _

__“Maybe we should get Guy and Iolaus together, see what happens,” Richard posited._ _

__“Ah,” Dean smiled. “We can never go back to the glory days, Rich.”_ _

__Richard sat back, sighing and smiled at him. “The only thing keeping me from molesting you right now is my deeply ingrained sense of morality.”_ _

__Dean swallowed down his initial reaction, which was to toss impropriety out the window. “I enjoy talking with you, Rich,” Dean told him. “And I appreciate your restraint. Do you want to stay here tonight?” he asked. “The couch, I mean. It’s very comfortable,” Dean offered._ _

__Richard shook his head and got to his feet. “You should be alone with Aidan when he wakes up.”_ _

__“What do I tell him about last night?” Dean wondered. “I mean, if he asks.”_ _

__“I wouldn’t tell him anything, unless he remembers and has questions,” Richard offered. “It must’ve been pretty terrifying. He doesn’t need that right now, does he?”_ _

__Dean shook his head. “No,” he admitted. “He needs _me._ ” Dean opened the door to his trailer to usher Richard out. “I’m glad you stayed. You made me smile,” he told him._ _

__“Likewise,” Richard agreed. As he passed Dean at the doorway, he seemed conflicted as to what to do. He wound up offering him a stilted hug. “This is awkward,” he gave Dean an apologetic half smile._ _

__“But in a good way,” Dean admitted. “Goodnight.”_ _

__After Richard left, Dean undressed and climbed into bed, embracing Aidan from behind and burying his face in his hair. He took long, slow, deep breaths trying to calm the triphammer that was his heart._ _


	15. Lust for Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard gets what he wants.

Richard had never been so clean or taken so much care with his appearance. Tonight was the night he was going to claim his reward for thwarting the assassination of Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin had led his warriors to victory in the Battle of the Five Armies and had been ruling as King of Erebor for four years. 

Thorin had been visiting Dale one month prior and a demented man with a dagger had dared try to kill the king. Richard had been at the right place at the right time, and stepped between Thorin and the blade, earning himself a nasty puncture wound in the side, but preventing injury to Oakenshield. 

Richard became, at once, a hero. Thorin’s entourage swept him away to Erebor to be treated by the king’s personal healer. When he was deemed recovered a week later, Thorin called him to the throne room for a personal audience.

“You are a brave and decisive man, Richard Armitage,” Thorin told him. “I believe in rewarding those who honor me and my race. Whatever you desire within my kingdom—you only need ask, and it shall be yours.”

Richard didn’t hesitate to ask for his reward, and he could tell that his request came at a great surprise to the king. But Thorin didn’t bat an eyelash. “In three weeks time, when my nephew returns from The Shire, you shall have your reward, Armitage,” he told him, “with my blessings.”

“Richard, you are mad,” his business partner, Martin, told him. “You could have asked for chests and chests full of gold. You’d be wealthy beyond any man’s dreams.”

“My lust for gold does not involve trinkets with monetary value,” Richard told him. “Believe me when I tell you I seek a greater treasure.”

Thus, he found himself three weeks later, being escorted through a very well-appointed section of Erebor, where the royal family had its quarters. The Dwarves at his sides seemed slightly unnerved by their task. The taller of the two, Dwalin, kept glancing inquisitively at Richard, as if he were struggling to understand Richard’s choice of reward. Nonetheless, he and his fellow guard stopped at a large wooden door, and opened it for Richard. 

“We shall take our leave of you, Richard Armitage. The king extends his best wishes to you both,” Dwalin bowed his head curtly. “We shall return for you in the morning, after breakfast.”

“Thank you, Dwalin,” Richard responded in kind.

“Make no mistake,” Dwalin lowered his voice and leaned closer to Richard, “hero or no, if you harm the lad in any way, I shall seek to put your head on a stake on Erebor’s ramparts.”

“I shall take that into consideration, Dwalin,” Richard told him, solemnly. 

Shaking his head and muttering something in Khuzdul, Dwalin and his companion left Richard at the open door. Richard took a deep breath and stepped inside the cavernous room. “Hello?” he called out into its candlelit depths, closing the door behind him.

“Hello,” a voice greeted him, and his reward stepped forward out of the shadows wearing a soft white dressing down of a very rich-looking material. His hair, normally ornately braided and clipped, was undone. In fact, he wore none of the leather, furs, armor or weapons that Richard was accustomed to seeing.

“My name is Richard Armitage,” Richard told him, feeling foolish.

“I am Fíli, nephew of Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór—Heir of Durin and, Aulë willing, future King Under the Mountain,” the blonde youth said, quietly but proudly. “I understand that while I was away as an ambassador, you were responsible for saving my uncle’s life.”

Richard nodded. “I was, yes.”

“That makes you a brave man indeed. Many claim they would step in front of a dagger. Few prove it.” Richard’s eyes fell to Fíli’s bare feet, and Fíli shuffled them self consciously. “I understand the king offered you your choice of rewards,” he said, “and you chose…” he faltered, “you chose _me._ ”

“There was little choice involved in the matter, Fíli,” Richard told him. “I have desired you from afar for some time.”

“Come, sit,” Fíli indicated a pile of plush cushions in front of a roaring fire. “I have ale and food for you, if you desire it. You can tell me about your peculiar decision.” The blonde handed a flagon of ale to Richard and sat down on a blue cushion, tucking his legs in under him. The firelight was exceptionally becoming to Fíli. His face, tanned by weeks of travel in the sun, looked softer than Richard recalled. 

“Thank you,” Richard accepted the drink and sat down a few feet from the prince. “I want to make it perfectly clear that I understand that you are otherwise romantically spoken for. I am in no way trying to infringe upon that bond. I realize that Dwarves take finding one’s soul mate very seriously,” Richard nodded. “I know that you have found yours.”

Fíli nodded, and his shoulders relaxed substantially. “I appreciate your candor, Richard,” he told him. “Yes, I have very much promised myself to my dear brother, Kíli. He is my One. I know that seems odd to you, perhaps even perverse. We Dwarves don’t have as many females about as you Men do, nor can any of us control where our hearts take us. Kíli has owned my heart for most of my life. ”

“I was not judging you, Fíli,” Richard told him. “I have seen you and your brother together. You seem very, very much in love. Yet, you always purport yourselves with the utmost discretion.” He drank from his flagon, nervously.

“You are a handsome Man,” Fíli told him, “and from what I can tell, a kind one. I freely honor your request for intimacy, Richard Armitage,” the blond smiled warmly. “I am yours this night, and any night for the next month that you may require me. I shall deny you nothing, for I love my uncle dearly and would sorely lament losing him. Know that I am not doing this under duress.” He began undoing the belt of his robe and in seconds the silky garment had puddled around him and Fíli sat naked before him. “Now, how may I pleasure you?”

Richard wasn’t sure how to proceed. He’d expected some sort of protest or shyness on Fíli’s part. “I-I should like very much to touch your hair,” he told Fíli. “It’s beautiful. Like molten gold.”

“Then touch my hair, Richard Armitage,” Fíli encouraged him, crawling towards Richard on all fours until they were nose to nose. The blonde sat down facing him. 

Richard felt as if he’d been let into a room, and in that room was a table laden with the finest food and drink. He alone was allowed to dine. Fíli smelled heavenly, and Richard knew with certainty the scent, the bathing, the preparing—had been for his benefit. Fíli’s long hair shone and lay thick on his shoulders, cascading unfettered down his back and chest.

“So beautiful,” Richard reached out a tentative hand to stroke the hair at the side of Fíli’s face. It was softer than he’d imagined. He leaned in to smell, burying his face in the soft tresses that smelled of sandalwood. He came back to himself. “You must find me strange,” Richard blushed, “to be so enamored of you. Have you ever lain with a man? A human?” he asked him.

“I have not,” Fíli told him. “Despite my position, I have lain with only two others. Both of them Dwarves. But, I am sure you will find that we have similar customs when it comes to physical intimacy, Richard.”

“Aye,” Richard nodded. “That I do not doubt. I do not plan to harm you, Fíli, or disgrace you in any way.”

“I have lain at the feet of Azog the Defiler with a sword in my gut,” Fíli unconsciously covered a scar on his stomach with one hand. “I have watched my family suffer and been unable to help. That, Richard Armitage, disgraced me. There is little you could or can do to me in the bedchamber to compare.”

“Nonetheless, highness, I hold you in the highest regard,” Richard said softly, lips tracing the shell of Fíli’s ear and hands clenching his upper arms. “Still, I wish nothing more than to ravage your body until you are screaming with ecstasy.”

Fíli gasped unexpectedly and trembled. “I am yours tonight, hero, so do your worst. I should warn you—I am a very passionate lover and I do not like to be teased.”

“I chose you over mountains of wealth,” Richard’s voice dipped into a dangerously low timbre and his hand crept over Fíli’s burgeoning erection and squeezed it gently. “I _will_ fuck you senseless. That is a promise, little one.” Fíli let out an involuntary cry and his eyes met Richard’s in a challenge. A rosy flush colored his chest and was creeping to his lovely face.

With no more pretense, Richard buried his hands in Fíli’s mane of hair and drew the blond in for a kiss, delving his tongue into a cavern that, until recently, was only the territory of his darkest fantasies. He explored Fíli’s mouth, running his tongue along his perfect teeth and the roof of it, delighting in its unexpected softness and its heat. Fíli moaned sinfully as Richard licked a line back to his ear and down to his throat, all the while exalting in the scent and texture of Fíli’s hair.

Fíli’s arousal could no longer be hidden. “I should like to see you without clothing,” Fíli said softly. “I do hope you will give me that honor, Richard Armitage. I have never seen a Man fully unclothed.” His eyes were huge and luminous, and Richard was unable to resist.

The brunet stood, unhooking and untying his jerkin and blouse, exposing his chest slowly to the Dwarf.

Fíli’s eyes went immediately to the pink scar on Richard’s right side, and he forced himself to look away from it. “You have much less body hair than I anticipated,” Fíli told him, eyes raking over Richard’s chest, “and this,” he reached forward and lightly flicked the silver bar through Richard’s right nipple with his fingers, “this I like very much. I have a strange urge to feel it in my mouth.” He sat forward on his haunches and closed his warm mouth over Richard’s piercing, laving it with his tongue and exploring it from all angles.

“You—you have no piercings, Fíli?” Richard nearly groaned this question as he melted under Fíli’s ministrations.

“I don’t, yet,” the blond told him, a hand splayed on Richard’s stomach.

“You should get some, in gold of course,” Richard told him, hand running along Fíli’s chest. “Gold would flatter you most.”

“Gold is far too malleable for piercings,” Fíli explained. “Body warmth would keep it from maintaining its proper shape.”

“And I do imagine you create a great deal of warmth,” Richard drew Fíli’s hips against his own. 

“I do,” Fíli told him. The difference in their sizes was especially evident in this position. “Goodness, you are big,” Fíli observed, eyes raised to meet Richard’s. “Tall, yes, but I wonder what these might be hiding?” He ran his hands around Richard’s waist and dipped one naughtily down the back of the Man’s trousers.

“I assure you, I am proportional,” Richard smiled confidently.

“Show me,” Fíli purred, leaning back onto a cushion like a sated cat.

Richard had never felt more conspicuous in his entire life. And he was a performer, by trade. Yet, here, in the audience of a beautiful, attentive prince, he was terrified. But he couldn’t let it show. Fíli had made it perfectly clear he desired someone straightforward and in control. He could be that. He could be anything for this perfect creature lying before him.

“Are you sure you’re ready to see?” Richard jested with him. “The sight of me can be rather… off-putting.” He paused, fingers toying with the drawstrings of his trousers. 

“I have seen battle, sir. I have seen warriors with their intestines strewn. In The Shire, I witnessed the birth of a two-headed calf. I assure you, I can handle the sight of your cock,” Fíli’s eyes lit up playfully, but they blinked in surprise when Richard slowly unveiled his erection. “Well,” Fíli’s voice wavered momentarily, “it _is_ larger than I’m accustomed to. I do love a good challenge,” he bit his lip and got to his knees. “Come here, Richard.”

Richard could not resist the sight of the crown prince of Erebor waiting for him on his knees. He quickly removed his trousers and moved purposefully towards Fíli. His hand found Fíli’s chin and tilted his face upwards. “Promise me,” Richard told him, “that you will do nothing to cause yourself distress.”

Fíli chuckled, running a finger along the underside of Richard’s cock. “I promise, Richard. I feel, however, I shall need a few more cushions to reach you like this. Will you lie down for me?” Fíli ghosted his hands along Richard’s flanks. “We could move to my bed, if you like.”

“Here by the fire is perfect,” Richard suggested, “for you look so lovely by its light.” Richard positioned some cushions for himself, then lay back on them.

Fíli again crawled slowly towards him, reminding Richard all the more of a plains cat stalking its prey. “I’m thankful, Richard, that you are not only attractive, and kind, but that you went to such lengths to make me feel at ease. None of that would have mattered. I would have been yours, regardless.” Fíli settled down near Richard’s hip and took his cock in hand, rubbing his thumb gently over the silky crown.

Richard may have had a suave comeback, but all conscious thought left his brain as Fíli lowered his head and took his shaft into his mouth. Richard panted harshly through his nose at the long-craved feeling of Fíli’s hair cascading onto his stomach, thighs and privates. The metal clips on his mustache braids occasionally collided with his hot dick in counterpoint to the warmth of Fíli’s mouth.

It was evident soon that Fíli couldn’t possibly take all of Richard into his mouth and throat, but he improvised by using his forge-strong hands to make up for it. One massaged the base of Richard’s cock and the other ventured lower to fondle Richard’s balls. Fíli hummed quietly and Richard fisted his hair in pleasure. “You should pull off, Fíli,” Richard cried out. “I don’t want to spend myself anywhere but inside of you.”

Fíli must have agreed, for he pulled off with a slow, wet _plop,_ eyes shining down at Richard. He slowly wiped his chin with the back of his hand, biting his lower lip invitingly.

Suddenly, Richard lost his composure and leapt upon the prince, tackling Fíli on his back into a pile of cushions. He began an oral assault that started at Fíli’s neck and ended with Richard’s tongue buried firmly between Fíli’s ass cheeks, delving into the prince’s entrance with Fíli’s legs thrown over his shoulders. Fíli mewled in pleasure and clutched at Richard’s rock hard thighs, hair spread behind him on the floor in a golden waterfall as he wantonly ground against Richard’s face to gain more friction. Richard lowered the prince so that his rump lay on some cushions and replaced his tongue with a finger, twisting and curling until Fíli was nearly undone.

“Need you inside of me, Richard,” Fíli breathed. “Now!”

“I don’t want to hurt you, highness,” Richard added another finger and attempted to scissor the tight opening a bit more.

“You shall not,” Fíli told him. “Just begin and we’ll see how far it goes.”

“Very well, Fíli,” Richard said and gently guided himself into Fíli’s channel.

Fíli wrinkled his brow in pain as Richard’s human member tried to find purchase inside his very Dwarven rump. “We shall need some oil, I think,” Fíli moaned. “Over there, on the tray,” he waved his hand in the general direction of the ale. 

Loathe to leave Fíli’s side, Richard quickly located the small cruet of oil and slicked both his cock and fingers liberally. He used his fingers to open Fíli yet again until the prince was flushed and nearly vibrating with pleasure. “Now, Richard,” Fíli gasped. “Try now!”

Richard easily rolled Fíli over onto his stomach and at this angle was able to better penetrate him. Richard knew it had to be hurting Fíli, but the prince ground and gasped until he had Richard fully seated inside him. Richard relished the feeling of Fíli’s hot rump against the skin of his crotch and his hands found Fíli’s hair again. 

“Lean back, Richard,” Fíli insisted. “Do you think you could support me on your lap?”

“I would like nothing more, if it causes you no pain, Fíli,” Richard told him, pulling Fíli backwards by his waist until the prince’s head was leaning back against his shoulder.

“I can feel you—so very deep inside me,” Fíli whispered, and began to move, encouraging one of Richard’s hands down towards his cock. Richard complied, taking Fíli’s hardness in hand, and allowed Fíli to set the pace, which he soon matched. In less than a minute, Fíli cried out and spilled over Richard’s hand. Richard held him through the aftershocks, one hand still fisted in Fíli’s enthralling molten hair. 

\-----

Richard cried out as he came and awoke, realizing it had all been an elaborate hot-as-fuck dream. “Jesus H. Christ,” he muttered, weakly wiping at the mess on his stomach as early morning light filtered through the nearby blinds. “This movie is going to kill me.”


	16. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan wakes up. Adam has shocking news for his cast mates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so very short. Crazy weekend. :/

Aidan woke up religiously at 5:59 a.m. Months on set had trained him to wake up right before his dreaded alarm went off. He hated the sound it made. Then, he remembered it was Saturday morning and he could go back to sleep. Then, he realized he wasn’t even in his own trailer.

His mouth was dry and his head hurt. Typical. He’d had way too much to drink the night before. He had vague flashes of dancing with Graham and making out with Dean in front of his cast mates. _Blast!_ he thought to himself, _the cat’s certainly out of the bag now._

He felt a warm presence behind him and realized Dean’s arm and right leg were thrown protectively over his. He felt a surge of love. Of course, he didn’t remember coming home, or what—if anything—had happened once they’d gotten here. Much of the last half of the evening was a blur. Damn James and Richard and their drink-buying. _And damn me for drinking them,_ he lamented, getting up and going first to the kitchen for water, then to Dean’s small bathroom to relieve himself.

Leaning towards his image in the mirror, he noticed a slight bruise high on his left cheekbone. He guessed the games had gotten a little out of hand. He’d have to ask Dean about that later. In the meantime, there was more sleep to be had and a warm lover to do it with. He climbed back into bed and snuggled up next to Dean and was asleep within minutes.

\-----

“Morning, lads,” James sat his tray down at the commissary table. Thankfully, on weekends, brunch was served at the respectable hour of 11 a.m. Richard and Martin nodded at him. 

“My, but that danish looks heavenly,” Martin commented. “I shall have to get one on my next pass.”

“Anyone checked in on the lovebirds this morning?” James wondered around a mouthful of eggs.

“Not yet,” Richard told him, sipping his tea.

The three were surprised when Adam came bustling into the commissary, Graham struggling to keep up. “We need to talk,” he sat down with the trio. “It’s about last night.”

“Out with it, then,” Martin prompted.

“That man, the blond, who tried to abduct Aidan,” Adam began. “I thought he looked familiar. Turns out, I had a good reason to think so.”

“He works _here,_ ” Graham told them. “At the studio.”

\-----

Meanwhile, half a mile away, a black SUV was pulling away from the front of Dean's trailer.


	17. Subdue, Abduct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drake Hudson likes to finish what he starts. His sights are set on Dean and Aidan.

Drake Hudson, wearing a dark hoodie and sunglasses, strode through the set without a care. He was an employee with an ID card, gate pass and free, easy access to all things _Hobbit._ Most of the cast didn’t know he existed. He was a set designer and builder and spent most of his time in his workshop. Now that production was fully underway, he was only called upon when a set had to be changed or torn down. The good news is that he now had plenty of money and plenty of free time—a dangerous combination for someone who had a side hobby of drugging men and taking them to his own sadistic version of the Mirkwood elves’ prison.

Instead of going home after the confrontation in the parking lot the night before, Drake had driven back to the lot and followed the movements of the actors carefully. He stood, out of sight, as Adam, Graham, Martin, James and, finally, Richard left Dean’s trailer. 

Drake was nothing if not patient. And he was all about finishing something once he’d started.

He’d parked his vehicle a few blocks away to avoid suspicion. In his backpack were some very dangerous items indeed: a small container of halothane he’d purchased online from an Army medical supply company, some plastic tubing, and a large plastic bag with a chloroform-soaked rag inside. Drake loved using chemicals to subdue his victims and couldn’t wait to try his hand at a twosome.

He stationed himself outside Dean’s trailer at 8 a.m. He went round back and hid between the trailer and the production building behind it. It gave him not only access to Dean’s bedroom window, but also to their trailer’s air conditioning unit. The blond could have easily hooked the tubing up and drugged the pair while they were sleeping, but that wouldn’t have been enough to satisfy Drake. He wanted to hear it working—the helplessness, the falling of bodies, the helpless struggling. He hooked the tubing up to the halothane dispenser, stuck the end through the air conditioner and waited until the pair was awake.

\-----

Dean awoke to the steady sound of Aidan’s heartbeat under his ear. “Mmmm,” he snuggled down into Aidan’s warm chest and tightened the grip of his arm around Aidan’s slim waist.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Aidan toyed with his hair. “You must have been up very late last night. Had a bit of a party too, I see. All those beer bottles lined up for recycling.”

“Ah yes,” Dean told him. “The boys came along to make sure you got home all right. They stayed a bit, chatting.”

“Was I so bad off?” Aidan wondered. “I didn’t think I’d drunk more than any of the others. Maybe less, in fact.”

“I lost track,” Dean said quietly, not wanting to give anything away to Aidan. “Of my own drinks as well. Richard and James kept buying round after round. I’m so glad we had a taxi to bring us home. None of us should have been driving.”

“Amen to that. I can’t believe we made out in front of everyone.”

“That was the high point of my evening,” Dean raised his face to Aidan’s and kissed him chastely on the mouth. “Theirs too, I think. Hey,” he looked over at the clock and saw it read 10:15 a.m. “We should get dressed, go to the commissary and have brunch.”

Aidan nodded. Then his stomach growled loudly. “Guess that’s a yes,” he grinned. “Dibs on first shower. Do you have something I can wear?”

“I’m sure I can find something,” Dean got up and began rooting through his drawers. As Aidan passed on his way to the bathroom, Dean gave his boxer-clad ass a playful smack.

Ten minutes later, Aidan emerged and Dean got into the shower. “You used all the hot water, Gigantor!” Dean called out teasingly. 

“Yeah, well you left me your fat clothes!” Aidan held up the heather grey sweat suit in dismay.

Dean chuckled to himself and took a quick lukewarm shower, thoughts unable to leave his dilemma. Should he tell Aidan what had happened with Drake last night? Should he let Aidan remember on his own? Aidan took such pride in being in control. Knowing he’d let his guard down and let himself be taken advantage of would devastate him. But it would devastate him more knowing Dean withheld it from him. Dean made the decision to tell Aidan when they returned from breakfast.

When he left the shower, Aidan was dressed in Dean’s grey sweats and fresh socks.

“Nice,” Dean smiled.

“You have to wear sweats too, Mr. Fashion Plate. Put us on equal footing,” Aidan cajoled.

“All right, then,” Dean tossed his towel away.

“I’ll wait in the living room,” Aidan decided, eyes skipping away from Dean’s adorable little bum, “or we will completely miss breakfast while I’m ravaging you.” He left the room. “Hey, Dean?” Aidan called from the living room. “It smells odd out here. I think your AC might be leaking fluid.”

“I’ll call maintenance on Monday,” Dean called to him as he dressed. He was pulling on his socks when he heard a thud from the other room. “Aid?” he called out. When no one answered, he hurried out to check on him.

\-----

It had taken forever for the lovebirds to finally wake up. Drake was beginning to think he’d returned to the wrong trailer and was ready to call it quits when he finally heard their voices from inside. He'd hinged his plan on the notion that they were probably hungry and were going to go to the commissary for food. When he heard the shower start up, he opened the release valve on the canister of halothane and the anesthetic gas began permeating Dean’s trailer. He crouched under the window air conditioner unit and waited. His palms itched in anticipation of having pliant flesh under them. 

He didn’t have long to wait. About 10 minutes later, he heard a voice move into the living room area and not long after, the rewardingly erotic sound of a body crashing to the floor. _One down, one to go,_ Drake smiled to himself and cranked the valve open just a tad more.

\-----

“Aidan?” Dean rushed from the back bedroom when he heard the sound of someone falling. “Aidan!” he cried in fear when he discovered his boyfriend sprawled on his side in the middle of the living room. “Aid?” he desperately cupped the brunet's face and checked his pulse. 

Then, Dean noticed the sweet smell. By then, he’d already unknowingly breathed in a great deal of halothane, but managed to get to his feet and throw open the front door of the trailer to let in fresh air. He took a deep breath of outside air and turned back to the living room “Aid, c’mon baby,” he breathed, trying to get his arms under Aidan’s shoulders despite his own growing dizziness. Holding his breath, he’d nearly dragged Aidan’s unresponsive form to the door when he found his way blocked.

“Hello, Dean,” Drake smiled, and grabbed him around the waist, firmly pressing the chloroform infused rag over Dean’s nose and mouth. 

Dean cried out and struggled with all he had, dropping Aidan the short distance to the floor in the process. But Drake was at full strength, significantly larger and didn’t have anesthetic inhibiting his actions. 

“Just let the drug do its work, Dean,” Drake breathed soothingly in his ear. Dean only renewed his struggle to escape, scratching ineffectually at Drake’s arms and face, which made Drake, in turn, tighten his grip. “Shhh,” he heard Drake telling him. “Shhh.”

Drake savored the moment when Dean switched from struggling and vibrant to pliant and unconscious. He held the limp body for a few moments longer, dosing Dean a bit more to make sure he stayed that way. Then, he lowered Dean to the floor next to Aidan and re-bagged the noxious rag. He decided to leave his halothane and chloroform behind for the lovebirds’ friends to find—as Drake knew this would be the last time he’d be pulling this little stunt.

Certain the two were unconscious, he left to run down the block and fetch his vehicle. When he returned, Drake dashed back inside the trailer, carrying first Dean, then Aidan outside and feeding them through the open hatchback of his SUV. No one saw any of it, and he drove away from the trailer with his prisoners, a satisfied smile on his face.


	18. "Personal Reasons"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan and Dean are trapped in Drake's dungeon. Will their cast mates find them in time?

It took Dean and Aidan’s cast mates only five minutes to reach Dean’s trailer from the commissary. They knew rushing over had been for naught when they saw the front door hanging open.

“Oh my god,” Richard breathed, and dashed into the trailer, fearing the worst. “Aidan? Dean?” he called out.

“Maybe they went for breakfast,” Martin suggested. 

“Do you smell that?” Graham wrinkled up his nose. “It’s not cologne. Smells… odd.”

James came inside. “I went around back. I found this hooked up to the air conditioner,” he said sadly, showing them the halothane tank and the clear plastic hose attached to it.

“W-what is that?” Martin wondered. “Looks like something a scuba diver would use.”

“It’s gas,” James read the container. “Halothane. Used in surgery to knock patients out.”

“He’s taken them,” Richard said with dark certainty. “That man from last night.” His eyes fell upon something shiny on the floor. It turned out to be a plastic Ziploc bag with a wet, white piece of cloth inside. He held it up before his face to examine it more closely.

“Don’t open that!” James cautioned. 

Adam, meanwhile, was on his cell phone. “Mason?” he spoke into the receiver. “Are you on set today? Good, good. Remember that favor you owe me?” He turned to the others. “Mason works in Human Resources. He can help us locate this Drake character.”

Twenty minutes later they’d assembled in Mason Netwig’s office. “Drake Hudson,” he pulled Drake’s personnel record up on his computer. “He’s a set designer and constructor. He lives at 425 Freyberg Street here in town. He has a workshop in Building 18.” His eyes met Adam’s. “I’m printing all of this out for you guys, but we should tell the police what happened,” Mason cautioned. 

“Not quite yet,” Richard told him. “We’d like the opportunity to pay him a visit first. Besides, we don’t want Aidan and Dean’s families or the public finding out about this before there’s a real reason to panic.”

“Yes, Mason,” Adam begged. “Can you wait just a bit before doing anything? This is something we’d like to take care of on our own. The police might just slow us down.”

“Let’s go check out this knob’s house,” Graham suggested.

\-----

Aidan had the sensation of being on a roller coaster. His stomach was queasy and his head spun. A deep voice kept murmuring in his ear, but he couldn’t hear words—only sounds. It kept speeding up to ridiculous speeds, then slowing down to nightmarish groans. Firelight danced on the edges of his vision. He was cold and could feel the pressure of hands moving him and a sudden, sharp pain that drove its way right through the center of him like a javelin. He cried out, but couldn’t move a muscle. Then everything went dark again.

When Aidan opened his eyes again, things felt more stable. The room was lit only by candles. He was no longer so terribly dizzy, but the sharp pain in his middle persisted. He tried to move his hand to his stomach and found his wrists were secured with buckled leather straps to the arms of the chair he was sitting in. His legs were secured too, by the feel of it. He was naked and shivering. He tried to wriggle a bit to ease the ache in his stomach, but a fiery pain shot through him and he realized: he was impaled on something. There was something inside him!

“Don’t struggle so much, Aidan,” a voice floated to him and someone stepped into his field of vision. A tall handsome blonde that he semi-recognized. “You’re on a special chair. A special chair I made. In case you haven’t realized it, you have a rather large fake phallus inside you right now. It’s part of the chair. You,” the man paused and licked his lips before continuing, “you _tore_ a bit when I put you on it. I am sorry about that. My back was hurting from when I carried you and your friend to my truck, and you slipped. I’ll try to keep you medicated so it doesn’t pain you too much.”

Aidan’s head spun with all the information he was being fed. “Who-who are you?” he wondered. “Where’s Dean?”

“I’m hurt you don’t remember me, but I’m not surprised,” Drake told him. “Drake Hudson. We met last night at Rubix.”

Aidan tried like hell to place the man in last night’s events, but couldn’t. 

“I’m the guy who drugged your drink and tried to take you home,” Drake filled in the blanks.

“You… you what?” Aidan asked weakly. “No. That didn’t happen. I was with my friends. All night.”

“Not _all_ night,” Drake corrected him. “We chatted a bit, at the bar. You told me about the movie. What I didn’t tell you then is that I too work for the studio. In fact, I designed the set we’re on right now. This is the interrogation room of the Mirkwood elves’ prison.” He gestured grandly.

Aidan suddenly got a flash of memory from the previous evening. “You have a black truck. You—you took me to the parking lot, but Dean stopped you.”

“Dean has been very, very bad,” Drake nodded. “That’s why I’ve put him in my puppy cage. I only use the cage for exceptionally bad puppies.” Drake lit a few more candles, then turned up the intensity of a propane lamp he had on a nearby table. It cast light into the darker areas of the room, illuminating a cage that hung from the ceiling in the corner across from Aidan’s chair. 

Dean was naked, in what seemed an impossibly small space. His knees were drawn up to his chest due to the close quarters and, from what Aidan could tell, his hands were tied together in front of him. Dean’s eyes were closed and his head rested against the bars of the cage, which appeared to have been painted to resemble wood.

But there was more. This was no run of the mill dungeon. It was a Middle Earth dungeon. Aidan recognized the scent of Spanish moss, ever present in most of their Mirkwood scenes. Drake had coated everything with it, and it did look very Tolkien. Aidan twisted to get a look around him and the pain in his middle intensified. The pain was deep and sharp and it felt very slick and wet in there. Clearly, he was bleeding.

“You’re not getting out of that chair until I say so,” Drake told him. “So you might as well find a comfortable position.”

“A comfortable position doesn’t involve having something poking up my ass,” Aidan winced, trying to adjust.

“Dean might beg to differ. Or Richard. How many of them _are_ you fucking, Aidan?” Drake took a step forward and knelt before Aidan, putting his hands on Aidan’s knees. “C’mon, out with it.”

“I’m only fucking Dean,” Aidan informed him. 

“All right then,” Drake smiled. “Were you fucking the old Fili too?”

“What? No,” Aidan told him. “I hardly got to know Rob.”

“I knew him fairly well,” Drake told Aidan. “Really well, in fact. If you catch my drift,” Drake slid his hands up Aidan’s thighs until one of them found his cock. “In fact, you should thank me. If I hadn’t scared Rob into leaving the cast, you might not have met your boyfriend.”

Aidan’s drug-addled brain was rapidly putting two and two together. He couldn’t pull away from Drake’s hand on his dick and was mortified to find it was responding. He was unable to stop tears from falling down his cheeks. He had never felt so helpless.

“Don’t be ashamed, Aidan,” Drake soothed him. “You’re a guy. If someone touches your cock, it’s bound to like it—even it you don’t. And, I must say, I’m pretty good at this. Now Rob… Rob was fucking gorgeous, wasn’t he? Early in production, we went out for drinks. I drugged him. Big surprise, right?” He winked at Aidan, who whimpered. “He wound sitting right where you are. We had a grand night. At least I thought so. He didn’t take it so well, obviously. He left the set three days later and never came back. He never calls, never writes,” Drake sped up his hand and Aidan closed his eyes against what he had heard and what he was feeling. “Thanks to Sherlock over there,” he tilted his head towards Dean, “the jig is up for me here. I had a great run, though. But it’s time to shut things down.”

_Oh my god! He’s going to kill us!_ Aidan thought in terror Then he came, body clamping down on the invader in his ass and the pain ratcheted up so high he broke out in a sheen of sweat and felt like he might vomit. 

He let his mind float into a grey space where he was warm under the covers and Dean was in the kitchen making coffee.


	19. Bad Puppies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam makes a shocking discovery. Dean suffers.

Drake’s house was deserted.

Richard had borrowed one of the gaffer’s cars and sped across town like a maniac at the behest of the GPS. When the quintet arrived at Drake’s townhouse, none of them were quite sure how to proceed.

A tentative knock from Adam yielded nothing, nor did a more forceful banging by Graham.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Martin stepped up, credit card in hand, and jimmied the lock. “There we go.”

“Dr. Watson,” James bowed to him. “Nice to see you’ve retained your skills.”

“I do seem relegated to the life of a burglar,” Martin groused.

“Stay close,” Richard cautioned, stepping slowly into Drake’s living room.

Their stealthy caution served no purpose, as the house—from basement to crawlspace—was unoccupied, except for a trio of disinterested fish in the dining room.

Adam drifted to Drake’s study, where he went through all the drawers in his desk. One item in particular caught his eye and he pocketed it. Then, he opened Drake’s laptop and started investigating. He found one troubling item after another. Drake’s browser was open to a medical supply company website, where it was clear he purchased his halothane canisters and tubing. Another website was open to a message board about date rape drugs. One comment in particular chilled Adam’s blood.

_**Another drug you can use is Ketogan. My ex-wife in Goa got some poured into her beer by some idiot Israeli guy who thought it was funny. When she collapsed, my choices were to punch him in the face or carry my wife home. I did the adult thing.** _

_**I still can't shake that guy's stupid sneer from my mind as I picked her up. She was conscious but had no control over her body. She was like a doll. She moved around but only weakly in a highly uncoordinated fashion. Her speech was nightmarish slurred low babbling.** _

_**In the morning all she had was fractured and distorted memories of the events, but otherwise felt fine. Anything could have happened to her by anyone and she wouldn't know. When I told her that I'd taken off her clothes and put her to bed she had to ask if it was me who did it.** _

_**Ketogan can be bought at pharmacies in India and a few European countries. It's a tasteless clear liquid. I've been told it's a horse tranquilizer. There are people who take it willingly for "fun."** _

Adam was shivering. Then he saw the _Pictures_ folder. Hesitantly he clicked it open. Inside were several sub-folders. Some had names: _Dante, Lester, Ben, Rob._ Out of curiosity, he double clicked on the _Rob_ folder. It was as he’d feared. The folder contained 15-20 photos of poor Rob Kazinsky in various states of consciousness and undress. In some, it was clear he was terrified. 

“Oh my god,” Adam breathed. “Oh my god, Rob.” He didn’t hesitate to drag the folder into the _Trash_ folder and make doubly sure the photos would never see the light of day. 

Then, some of the other folder names caught his eye: _Chair, Rack, Bad Puppies._ The final folder had an ominous sound to it, and Adam hesitantly clicked it open. What he found were not photos of dogs. Instead, it contained photos of men stuffed into what appeared to be a small cage hanging from the ceiling. The folder contained over 40 pictures. Skimming through the thumbnails, he thought he saw a familiar face and clicked on it.

What he saw was like a fist to the gut. “No,” he breathed. “No, no, no…” He took off his glasses and rubbed his hands over his eyes to ensure he truly recognized the face of the man who was being abused by Drake Hudson. When confirmed, he barely had time to drag the photo to the trash and delete it before running to the bathroom to be sick.

“Adam, darlin’,” Graham was at his side in seconds, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “What is it? What happened?”

Adam gasped and lay his sweaty brow against the cold porcelain. “P-pictures. I found p-pictures and so much more. Graham,” he cried, throwing his arms around his older friend. “It’s unspeakable. What he’s done… it’s horrible!”

“We’ll take the laptop to the police,” James assured Adam. Graham felt his friend tense in his arms. 

“Y-yes,” Adam nodded. “That’s a good idea. I think we need to go to Drake’s workshop on set. The cage in the picture looks like something from the wood elves’ prison, doesn’t it? He’s probably holed up there with Aidan and Dean.”

“You heard the man,” Richard looked around at all of them. “Let’s go.”

\-------

Dean awoke, aching all over. His wrists felt tender and his head was throbbing from the chloroform. His lower back felt like it was being jabbed with a hot poker, protesting the position he was forced into. He couldn’t stop shivering and could barely see anything, as the room was so dim. He wriggled experimentally to try to relieve the pressure on his back, but then things started to spin and sway. He discovered he was in a cage—a cage hanging from the ceiling, by the way it spun lazily. He took long, slow deep breaths to help stem the rising nausea the spinning caused. As his vision cleared, he moved his constricted hands around to feel his surroundings. 

Then he saw Aidan—ghostly pale, on a chair about ten feet away.

“Aidan,” he whispered. His boyfriend raised his head and his bleary eyes met Dean’s.

“Dean,” he murmured softly. “Oh, thank God. I thought you’d never wake up. Can you get out of there?”

“I can hardly move,” Dean admitted. “Do you see a lock or anything from where you are?”

“M’not sure,” Aidan told him. “It’s all covered with moss. You might have to feel around a bit.”

“I’ll try,” Dean breathed through the dizziness that moving caused. “Are _you_ hurt?”

“Um,” Aidan bit his lip. “I think so, yeah.”

Dean’s head shot up. “What is it, Aid? What did he do to you?”

“It’s this chair. It’s got a … a dildo or something on it. _In me,_ ” he clarified. “It hurts like hell and I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding. And…”

“And?” Dean tried to hide the tremble in his voice, but failed.

“You didn’t tell me about last night,” Aidan finished. He was too afraid to be angry at Dean. “The man who brought us here apparently tried to abduct me last night, but failed.”

“I’m sorry, Aidan,” Dean said softly. “I was going to talk to you about it after breakfast. I knew when you woke up this morning that you didn’t remember. It was… it was terrifying. He came _so_ close to succeeding, all because I wasn’t paying attention,” Dean sniffed and a tear rolled down his cheek.

“Apparently, if he was able to drug me, _I_ wasn’t paying attention either,” Aidan admitted. “I was so focused on being angry at you for flirting with Richard. Or Richard for flirting with you. I don’t remember. It was stupid. I love you, Dean,” the brunet sniffed. “And this—this is very, very bad. I think he might kill us.”

“Oh, bravo!” Drake walked out of the shadows, clapping slowly. “It’s no secret why the two of you get paid the big bucks. Good morning, Dean,” Drake put a hand on the lower corner of Dean’s cage and gave it a push, spinning the cage in a circle.

Dean groaned as the nausea returned and lay his head against the cage bars.

“Yeah, that’s gotta suck,” Drake grinned, turning up the propane lamp and adding more light to the scene. “Comfy in there?” he asked the blond. 

“I’ve been in tighter spots,” Dean said coldly.

“No doubt you have. You seem to have a way of pissing people off. Now then, let’s see about getting you out of there, shall we?” Drake reached below the moss at the bottom of the cage. He pulled a hidden lever and the base of the cage opened downwards, spilling a surprised Dean onto the floor.

Dean gasped at the sudden landing and the awakening pain in his limbs.

“De!” Aidan cried out.

“Aren’t you glad I bought that nice, cozy papasan cushion and put it under the cage?” Drake asked him. “I didn’t have it until recently. I actually had a guy break a leg once. Bad scene, that.”

“Yeah,” Dean groaned. “It really helps soften the blow.”

Drake hauled Dean to his feet by one arm. Dean swayed unsteadily. “Over here, Romeo,” Drake led him to the large workbench in the center of the room. “I know I don’t have to tell you not to try anything. Aidan’s quite helpless over there, and if you tried to run away, there’s no way he could follow you. I’d be forced to kill him. Hands, please,” Drake pulled Dean’s bound hands forward to attach to a hook on the workbench. The action forced Dean to bend over the bench in a very compromising position.

Satisfied that he had Dean right where he wanted him, Drake lit a cigarette and started digging through drawers as if searching for something.

“Drake,” Aidan interjected. “Whatever it is you think you want to do to Dean, please reconsider. You can still just walk away from all this,” Aidan tried to reason with him. “Just get in your truck and leave. It’s only a matter of time before they—”

Dean screamed in pain. Drake had brought the cigarette to rest against the blond’s exposed hip, crushing it out there. 

“Aidan,” Drake said quietly, locking eyes with the brunet. “I’m in charge here. Don’t forget it.”

Aidan silenced and tried to bring his racing heart under control. His hands were freezing and he felt lightheaded and sick. Fortunately, Dean was facing him over the table and he could look into his eyes. He just hoped it wasn’t for the last time.

Drake finally found what he was looking for, pulling a small container of lube out with a feral grin in Aidan’s direction. “So, I thought I’d fuck your boyfriend, Aidan. I know, he pisses me off. But, c’mon. Look at him,” he gave Dean’s left butt cheek a light tap. “I’d be a fool not to take advantage of that ass while it right in front of me.”

Dean forced an aggravated huff through his nose.

“So fucking adorable,” Drake concluded and pulled down his own pants to expose his dick to the light. 

Dean craned around to look at it. “And here I was worried you might actually hurt me with that thing,” he smirked. “No danger of that I see.”

Aidan’s eyes widened, knowing Dean was pushing his luck.

“Oh, so it’s pain you’re after?” Drake dug his fingers into Dean’s hip, leaving red crescent moons behind. “ _That_ I can help you with.” He pulled up his pants and picked up a hammer from his workbench, walking around front, towards Aidan, who weakly cowered away from Drake’s wrath.

“I understand you fancy yourself an artist?” Drake asked Dean, bringing the hammer down forcefully on one of Dean’s bound hands, then the other. “Try painting now.”

The pain was so white hot and instantaneous that Dean couldn’t muster up a sound. He gasped and writhed, cold sweat lacing his brow as Drake raised the hammer again, turning his face to Aidan expectantly.

Aidan didn’t dare tell Drake not to do it. Yet, he was afraid to say nothing. Seconds ticked by.

“Aidan, please, don’t try to help me,” Dean begged quietly. “L-let him hurt me. I deserve it.”

Aidan blinked, trembling, and two fat tears fell onto his lap. He could only shake his head in denial and hope Drake would tire of this torture.

Drake scoffed and turned back to Dean, raising the hammer again.

“Drake!” a deep voice called from the door of the workshop. “Step away from him and put down the weapon!”

“Oh good,” Drake exclaimed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before you swooped in to save the day, Richard.” 

“I brought friends, too,” Richard told him as James, Martin, Adam and Graham entered the workshop behind him. “You have zero chance of getting out of this room.”

“That may be so,” Drake conceded. “You’ve got me there. But I can do a lot of damage before you take me down!” He raised the heavy hammer high, prepared to bring it down on the back of Dean’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slowly sneaks out of the room*


	20. Slingshot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescue and revelation.

_“Drake!” a deep voice called from the door of the workshop. “Step away from him and put down the weapon!”_

_“Oh good,” Drake exclaimed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before you swooped in to save the day, Richard.”_

_“I brought friends, too,” Richard told him as James, Martin, Adam and Graham entered the workshop behind him. “You have zero chance of getting out of this room.”_

_“That may be so,” Drake conceded. “You’ve got me there. But I can do a lot of damage before you take me down!” He raised the heavy hammer high, prepared to bring it down on the back of Dean’s head._

Suddenly, Drake cried out in pain and dropped the hammer onto the workbench, inches from Dean’s nose. Drake clutched at his own face, where something had struck him hard, right between the eyes. His nose was gushing blood.

The surprised actors all turned to see Adam a few feet behind them, Ori’s slingshot in his hand. “What are you all looking at?” Adam spat. “Call the bloody police!”

“Call an ambulance too,” Dean told them, gasping as James’ fingers fumbled to untie him. “Aidan’s in bad shape.”

Graham collared a bleeding Drake and shoved him down into a nearby chair. “Don’t even think about moving,” the Scotsman breathed in Drake’s ear. He found a length of twine nearby and tied the kidnapper’s hands behind him to the back of the chair. “And keep your fucking gob shut.”

“Be careful with Dean’s hands,” Aidan cautioned to James. “They may be broken.”

“Pretty sure they are,” Dean replied, voice tight with pain, as James located a nearby X-ACTO knife and gently sliced through the twine binding Dean’s wrists. Adam helped Dean slowly to his feet and onto a nearby stool. Dean cradled his injured hands to his chest. 

Meanwhile, Richard was unbuckling Aidan from the chair. 

“Bring that propane lamp over here,” Richard asked of Martin, who complied. As Martin brought the light closer to Richard, it became evident that the sticky substance under his knees was Aidan’s blood. “My god, Aidan,” Richard breathed. “What’s he done to you?”

“It’s some kind of torture chair,” Dean explained, so Aidan didn’t have to suffer the humiliation of answering. “He’s got something _inside_ him. Something big.”

“Can we lift him off?” Graham wondered. Aidan whimpered at the prospect, face going whiter still.

“I need more light,” Richard was investigating the seat of the chair and below. “I think maybe we can lower the—implement—inside him. There’s a little controller here on the side. But I don’t want to run it the wrong way.” He accepted the propane lamp from Martin.

“I’d really prefer you didn’t,” Aidan lay his head against the back of the chair as dizziness swept over him. “It already hurts like a motherfuck.” His face was ashen.

Adam had located a pile of clothing and helped Dean into some sweat clothes, being extra careful of his injured hands. “You were amazing, Adam,” Dean told him, grateful for the warmth of the clothing. “I didn’t realize you really could shoot like that.”

“Me either,” Adam confessed, “until it happened. I just couldn’t let him hurt you,” he threw his arms around his friend, “or anyone else, anymore.”

“Aidan,” Richard told the brunet, “this may hurt a bit—maybe a lot—but you have to try not to move. I think I’ve figured out how to lower it. James and Graham can steady you. Are you ready?”

Aidan nodded faintly. “Just do it, Richard,” he reached for James’ hand. “Please.”

“I think he might be in shock,” Adam told Dean softly. “He’s lost a lot of blood, and he doesn’t look so good.”

Dean could barely stand to watch the agony that seized Aidan’s frame when Richard began lowering and removing the phallus impaling him. 

“Oh god!” Aidan cried out, hoarsely, fingernails digging into James’ hand and Graham’s arm as he tensed. “Fucking fuck!”

“Try to relax,” Richard said soothingly. “Nearly there.”

Tears streamed from Aidan’s heavily-lidded eyes and he whispered, “Fuck you, Richard. I mean that in the nicest way, of course.” Then, he fainted, body sliding alarmingly to one side, head landing on James’ shoulder. 

“Keep him steady and upright,” Richard cautioned, and James gently eased Aidan back towards center. A moment later, the machine stopped whirring. “It’s out,” Richard said sadly, wincing at the monstrous, bloody thing that had impaled poor Aidan. “He’s got to be hurting.”

Martin knelt to take a look beneath the chair and shuddered at what he saw. There was a great deal of blood. 

“Should we move him?” Graham wondered. “Staunch the flow? Something?”

The sound of a siren allowed them the luxury of not making that decision. Graham dashed outside to intercept the paramedics, no longer feeling helpless. “In here,” Graham returned a moment later, two med techs on his heels. 

While they were attending to Aidan, the police arrived and took Drake into custody. The blond wisely didn’t bait the actors who’d apprehended him. 

“I have his laptop out in the car,” Adam told one of the arresting officers. “You’ll definitely want to see what’s on it.”

“Adam,” Drake told the Brit quietly, “you were pretty impressive today. Nice shot. You’ve got quite a pair on you,” he smiled, whispering, “of course, I already knew that.” The police led the cuffed kidnapper outside. Adam followed them without another word.

Graham and Dean exchanged a knowing look. 

“D’you suppose—? ” Graham asked Dean.

Dean just raised his eyebrows and winced as one of the med techs palpitated his right wrist.

Aidan lay on a rolling stretcher, ready for transport. “We’ll be taking them to Ewart Hospital,” the med tech told Richard. 

“Is he going to be all right?” Richard asked in response, squeezing Aidan’s cold, lax hand.

“He’s obviously lost a lot of blood,” the tech told the concerned actor, “but we know the nature of the injury. It’s just a matter of fixing it—probably with surgery—and getting his blood stores back up. And we’ll certainly have an orthopedist check out his hands,” he jerked his head in Dean’s direction. “The swelling is troublesome. Definitely some breaks there.” He began rolling the stretcher out of the workshop.

Martin, Graham and James followed them out. Richard stayed behind as the second tech splinted Dean’s wrists. 

“Today must have been agony for you two,” Richard put a warm, steadying hand on Dean’s back. “I’m sorry we didn’t make it here sooner,” he leaned in and lay a soft kiss on Dean’s temple. 

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. “I’m just glad you guys figured it out.”

“Adam orchestrated it all,” Richard told him. “He was nothing short of amazing.”

“Go, Ori!” Dean smiled softly at Richard, gasping as the paramedic closed the splint. 

“Go, Ori,” Richard echoed, gently. “We’ll follow behind the ambulance in the car,” Richard assured him, as the paramedic helped Dean to his feet.

“Stay with Aidan,” Dean requested. “Make sure he gets taken care of. I’m a quick healer,” Dean promised, and was gone. 

Dean barely remembered the ride to the hospital. One of the med techs offered him an injection for his pain, which he gladly accepted. It took the edge off and made him sleepy. His hands hurt so badly that he couldn’t hold Aidan’s. Not that it would have mattered. Aidan was thoroughly insensate. The paramedics started an I.V. to help replenish the brunet’s fluids. Dean drifted, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Mr. O’Gorman,” a voice said. “We have a stretcher here for you now. We’d like to take you inside the hospital as well.” He remembered nodding his consent and the soft support of the stretcher beneath him soothing the pain of his aching back. Then, he fell asleep.

\-------

Graham sent Richard, Martin and James ahead to the hospital in the rental car. 

“C’mon, love,” he put a gentle arm around Adam’s shoulder. “Let’s take a walk. I’ll call us a cab to go to the hospital afterwards.”

Outside the gate of the studio was a coffee shop where they often went to relax. Graham steered the agitated Brit in that direction and they slid into their favorite corner booth and sat side by side, ordering their usual. 

“So…” Graham put a warm hand over Adam’s, “Got your Ori on today, did you?”

Adam nodded, eyes distant. “I suppose you could say that, yes.” He squeezed Graham’s hand. 

“That was a major turn-on. I hope you know that,” Graham’s eyes twinkled. “I am _desperate_ to bed you right now.”

Adam blushed, and raised his eyes to Graham’s. “I would have been content to kill him,” he admitted, squeezing some lemon into his tea. He took a sip and finally said, “I found a picture of myself on Drake’s hard drive this afternoon.”

Graham nodded. “I thought that might be the case, laddie, based on your reaction.”

“I-I swear to you, I don’t remember it… at all. But there it was,” Adam sniffed. “When I first came here to Wellington, I didn’t know anyone. Weekends, I went out. Rob and I got close. Not romantically, but friendly. We hung out. Then, he left. I got lonely. Checked out some bars, alone. It must have happened then.”

Graham listened intently as Adam told his story, not wanting to interrupt.

“I found that photo of myself in that cage,” Adam’s voice quavered, “and it seemed like a picture of another person. Someone stupid. Someone careless. Someone who isn’t me. I am—” he sniffed, “I am in control, dammit. But not that night. Graham, I could have died! Aidan and Dean could have died today! How can any of us ever hope to feel safe?” he sobbed quietly, leaning against Graham for support.

“We just have to surround ourselves with friends and look out for one another,” Graham said gently, arm encircling Adam’s trembling shoulders. “ _I_ will look out for you, sweet one,” Graham promised. “You have me now.”

Adam nodded and rested his head on Graham’s shoulder. They sat that way until their tea grew cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go, Ori.


	21. Say 'Uncle'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospitals suck.

Aidan lay on his back on a raft under the warm sun on a peaceful lake. Above him, the sky was the same color blue as Dean’s eyes. He felt a warm hand taking his own. He turned his head to see Dean smiling at him. “Let’s move here,” Dean said. “Just sod it all and live on this raft.” Aidan was about to reply, when— 

“Hello, Aidan,” a warm female voice said close to his ear. “I’m Dr. Veronica Davies—a urologist. I understand you’ve had some trauma.” She squeezed his arm.

Aidan reluctantly opened his eyes to see a gently smiling handsome silver-haired woman. “I-I guess you could call it that,” Aidan told her.

“Your uncle explained most of it to me, so you don’t have to re-hash the details,” Dr. Davies told him. 

“M-my uncle?” Aidan wrinkled his brow in confusion. His head was spinning from the medication, so he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

“Tall handsome gent? Piercing blue eyes?”

 _Richard,_ Aidan concluded. “Uncle Richard,” he smiled. “Yes.”

“You came here in a very weakened state,” Dr. Davies told Aidan. “We’ve given you some blood and packed your wound, which I took the liberty of examining while you were unconscious and couldn’t feel it. You have some pretty severe rectal and anal tearing and hemorrhaging. The good news is, it’s from a foreign object, so we needn’t check you for unwanted STDs.”

Aidan sighed, relieved that Drake hadn’t made him suffer _that_ indignity as well.

“However,” the doctor continued, “the tearing does need to be repaired. We’ll need to do some stitching, while you’re under general anesthesia. The procedure itself is called a Lateral Internal Sphincterotomy. Big words, I know,” she said, when Aidan winced, “but, in short, it’s a procedure to make an incision to relax your inner muscles and give the stitches ample time to heal.”

Aidan nodded. “Please, just do what you have to do, doctor. It-it’s really painful,” he admitted. 

She patted his hand. “I know, Aidan. I’m sorry. You’ll feel a heck of a lot better in a few hours. I’ll visit you tomorrow to talk about your follow-up care,” she assured him. “Your uncle’s pacing the floor out there to see you before we take you into the O.R. Shall I let him in?”

“Yes, yes. Of course,” Aidan told her. She gave his arm a final squeeze and departed through the curtain. 

A breathless Richard entered ten seconds later. “Aidan, thank God,” he breathed, leaning in to lay his forehead against the younger man’s. “They’ve been keeping us in the dark.”

“I need to have an operation,” Aidan told him, his voice nearly a whisper. “P-please ask Peter not to replace me, Richard,” Aidan’s eyes were huge. “H-he has such a rigid schedule. I’ll recover quickly.”

“Shh,” Richard smoothed back Aidan’s unruly hair. “You shouldn’t be worried about that. Peter’s not going to do that to you. Or to Dean.”

“Dean,” Aidan moaned. “His poor hands. Has he been seen yet?”

“Not yet, but he’s very happily medicated,” Richard assured him, smiling gently. “Your situation was much more life-threatening, Aidan. You lost a lot of blood. You could have died.” Richard pulled one of Aidan’s hands to his lips and kissed it softly. “I’m so, so sorry.”

A nurse in aqua scrubs entered the cubicle and smiled at the pair. “I’m here to get you ready for surgery, Mr. Turner,” she told Aidan. “You have an I.V. started already, fortunately, so I’m only going to add some sedatives to it, to help you relax.”

Aidan’s hand clamped down on Richard’s at the mention of the word ‘sedatives.’ 

“He’s wary,” Richard explained to her. “The past 24 hours he’s had a lot of drugs pass through his system.”

“It’s completely understandable,” she said soothingly. “But this is not a procedure that you want to be conscious for, Mr. Turner. And we will turn off the anesthesia the second it’s complete. You should feel little to no pain over the next few days.”

“I understand,” Aidan said softly, voice wavering. “Can my uncle stay with me… until it’s time to go up?”

“Of course,” she said, squeezing his arm to comfort him. “This is valium,” the nurse explained, injecting a syringe of clear liquid into his I.V. port. “Everyone gets it pre-surgery to help them relax. You’ll feel the effects shortly. The rest won’t bother you so much, then.”

Richard could see the moment the drug kicked in. Aidan’s pupil’s grew noticeably wider.

“Feels like I’m falling,” Aidan squeezed Richard’s hand. “Richard?”

“Yes, love?” Richard leaned in closer to Aidan.

“Don’t let him get me,” Aidan sounded like a little boy, and Richard was compelled to lean in and kiss his forehead. 

“I won’t,” Richard said softly. When he pulled away, Aidan’s eyes were closed.

“It’s time,” the nurse told Richard, raising the safety bars on the side of Aidan’s bed. “We’ll come get you in the O.R. waiting room when it’s over.”

Richard took one last look at Aidan before dashing outside into the fresh air. He’d never had a panic attack in his life, but he felt pretty sure he was having one now. He clung to the side of the building, attempting to bring air into his seizing lungs. He couldn’t get Aidan’s scared voice out of his mind.

\--------

“Two broken fingers on the left hand—ring finger and middle finger. On the right, it’s your thumb and index finger. Also, two of the metacarpals of the right hand. That’s the bones that aren’t fingers,” the orthopedist explained. “The right hand really took the brunt of it. Which hand do you write and paint with?”

Dean sighed. “My right.”

“You’ll have to wear the casts for at least five weeks. Probably six on the right,” the ortho told him. “The good news is, they’re sturdy. You should still be able to work. You’ll have to be careful, of course.”

“I’m guessing dual swords are right out,” Martin quipped from Dean’s left. 

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Dean’s doctor told them. “But there’s no nerve damage. The breaks are clean. You just need to endure the casts and the healing process will take care of itself.” He patted Dean on the back. “I’ll be doing the casts myself, at your director’s request. I’ll be back in a few minutes with the materials.”

“Fili’s bracers will cover the casts, for the most part,” Martin tried to cheer him. “I’m sure Peter can have someone digitally put those swords in your hands.”

“No doubt,” Dean bit his lip sadly. “I wonder how long Aidan’s operation is going to take.”

“Richard said it shouldn’t be more than two hours,” Martin said soothingly. “He’ll be in recovery for a bit, then moved to a room where we can see him.”

Dean nodded sadly as the doctor returned with a rolling cart full of cast-making goodness. 

“D’you want me to stick around?” Martin wondered. 

“I would, if you don’t mind,” Dean said softly. “You are the voice of reason, Uncle Martin.”

Martin smiled. “I have been called worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your encouraging feedback and notes--and the kudos from those of you unable to leave feedback. I'm glad this little story has touched so many of you.


	22. Manly, But Accessible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Make a wish, _khâzash,_ ” he felt a warm hand taking his own. He turned his head to the left and Fili smiled softly at him.
> 
> “I already have everything I need,” he squeezed his brother’s hand and turned his gaze back to the heavens.

“So, Dr. Monroe,” Martin spoke to break the tension in the examination room. “Are you a fan of Tolkien?

“I have read _The Hobbit,_ yes,” the young orthopedist said. “Long, long ago. I have no doubt the movie will be smashing. Lots of talent.” He set about laying out cast-making materials. “Now then, Dean… what color?”

“Color?” Dean wondered.

“The cast. We have about thirty colors you can choose from.”

“Oh, uh... I don’t know. Martin, what do you think?” 

Dr. Monroe held up a piece of cardboard with the choices. 

“That one,” Martin pointed at a swatch of burgundy. “It says, _‘I’m manly, but accessible.’_ ”

The doctor chuckled. “We might have to re-name the color now.” He opened a small plastic drawer and pulled out several rolls of burgundy wrapping material and two rolls of cotton lining.

“Let me see those wrists,” Dr. Monroe asked of Dean, who held up his left arm first. “You have some minor lacerations and bruising around both wrists. I’d like to put some antibiotic cream under the cotton underlay so that they’re completely gone when the cast is removed, all right?” 

Dean nodded, trying not to think about where those lacerations had come from.

The doctor used a cotton swab to coat the injury with cream, then began wrapping the cotton tape around Dean’s left thumb, wrist and hand. "It’s a good thing the finger breaks were low on the phalanges. At least you won’t have to deal with any splints,” the doctor told him. “But you are going to have to re-learn how to do some things over the next few weeks. And yes, I’m afraid you may need to ask others for help with a few tasks. Something tells me you won’t be without eager assistance,” the doctor smiled at Martin. 

It didn’t take more than five minutes for the doctor to immobilize Dean's left wrist, leaving him some wriggle room in his thumb and first two fingers. Dean had a feeling he’d be relying heavily on those three digits over the next six weeks.

The right hand took longer and caused him a lot more pain. Dean didn’t want to ask for any more pain meds, however, as his head finally felt clear for the first time what seemed like days. 

“I understand you might have a few other injuries that need looked at,” Dr. Monroe mentioned, as he put the finishing touches on Dean’s right hand. “Do you want to tell me about them?”

“I—” Dean began. “Well, my lower back’s really sore. I fell. But prior to that I was in—in a—” he hadn’t realized exactly when he’d begun shaking uncontrollably. In his mind, he was reliving the feeling of claustrophobic helplessness and being unable to do anything to prevent Drake from hurting Aidan. 

“Can’t he talk about this later?” Martin asked, a hint of warning in his tone, putting a warm hand on Dean’s back to comfort him. “He went through something really awful today.”

Dr. Monroe held Dean’s shaking hand steady and squeezed his upper arm solidly. “Yes, yes. Of course. Got it. Lower back pain. We’ll get you some really good painkillers, I promise,” he winked at the blond. “You’re all set. I’d like you to wait about twenty minutes for these casts to dry. Meanwhile, I’ll get your paperwork and meds ready for you.”

“Do you think you could also check on a patient named Aidan Turner for us?” Martin wondered. “He's his partner. He’s in surgery.”

“Of course I will,” Dr. Monroe assured them both, leaving the room.

“God,” Dean gasped. “I’m—I’m not handling this well,” he sniffed and tears started falling. “I can’t even wipe my own goddamn eyes,” he muttered helplessly.

“ _I_ can,” Martin got up and stood in front of Dean as he sat on the exam table. Cupping Dean’s face with both hands, he used his thumbs to wipe away Dean’s tears. “I’m not leaving your side until you’re able to see Aidan, okay?”

Dean nodded, leaning forward to rest his head on Martin’s shoulder. “How can I possibly be so tired?” Dean wondered, sniffling.

“How could you not?” Martin rubbed his back soothingly.

\-------

Crickets chirped and the smell of honeysuckle and campfire wafted on the warm summer breeze. He lay on his back and watched the constellations pass by overhead. The sky was amazingly clear. He smiled wistfully as a shooting star moved lazily across the field of his vision.

“Make a wish, khâzash,” he felt a warm hand interlock fingers with his own. He turned his head to the left and Fili smiled softly at him.

“I already have everything I need,” he squeezed his brother’s hand and turned his gaze back to the heavens.

Fili rolled towards him and placed a warm, gentle kiss to his temple. “Âzyungâl,” he whispered. 

When he opened his eyes, Dean was there.

\-------

_Three weeks later…_

“It’s cold in Ireland, isn’t it?” Dean asked him, holding a cable knit sweater up by his three good fingers.

“Not right now. It’s summertime,” Aidan smiled, picking up a butter yellow polo shirt. “Think summer casual. Well, you should maybe bring _one_ sweater. The nights can get chilly.”

“I’m counting on _you_ to keep me warm at night,” Dean lay back on his bed invitingly amidst the pile of clothing. 

Needing no second invitation, Aidan dove in next to him and snuggled up under one arm onto Dean’s chest. “I’m so glad you asked to come along,” he murmured, hugging him tightly. “My family is going to love you.”

“Naturally,” Dean chuckled. “I’m the kind of guy folks want to take home to meet Mum.”

“I’ve never taken anyone home to meet my parents before,” Aidan admitted.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Aidan raised himself up one elbow. “Does that make you nervous…or happy?”

“Heh, both, I guess,” he raised his hand habitually to caress Aidan’s curls and _thunked_ him on the back of the head with his cast. 

They both burst into laughter. 

“That’s it! I’m getting a helmet before you give me a concussion,” Aidan protested. 

“Sucks not being able to touch you the way I want,” Dean pouted, burying his face in Aidan’s hair and inhaling deeply.

“But I’m certainly enjoying the new and creative ways you’ve found of using your mouth,” the younger man sighed contentedly. 

“I’ll bet you are,” Dean held him tightly. “Speaking of, how long until the taxi gets here?”

Aidan looked down at his watch. “About thirty minutes.”

“In that case, get up here,” he nudged Aidan encouragingly and the brunet crawled up to kiss him. In minutes they were breathless and disheveled. “God _damn,_ I love you, Aidan Turner.”

“I love you too, _kidhuzel,_ ” Aidan lay his forehead against Dean’s. “In all your golden glory.”

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have gone on and on with this series of stories, but this seemed like a proper place to end it. 
> 
> Thank you all for coming along for the ride, and for all of your encouraging words along the way.
> 
> I welcome suggestions for upcoming 'verse time stamps and RPF one shots.
> 
> Thorny


	23. Brand New Cherry (A Time Stamp, Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time stamp for "In All Your Golden Glory." -- Since Aidan's surgery to repair the tearing, and Dean's double casts, the two haven't been nearly as sexually active as they would have liked to be. 
> 
> But six weeks later: Lord, almighty! They are free at last!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Taurnil, who wanted me to expound on Kili's enjoyment of spanking... way back in chapter six.

Dean couldn’t have been happier than he was at that very moment. The previous afternoon he’d gotten those dreaded casts—the bane of his existence for the past six weeks—removed. He was thrilled to be able to finally bend his wrists and flex his fingers again. And, it was the weekend, which meant two whole days in bed with Aidan.

But, right now, it wasn’t Aidan who lay before him across the trailer’s bed. It was Kili. Adorable, naïve Kili, stomach down, wearing nothing but a white silk cloth tied across his eyes. He’d come over directly after they’d finished the day’s shooting.

“Keep your hands right there and don’t you dare let go,” Dean had admonished him, insisting Kili grip the bars of the headboard with hands four feet apart.

“Why is it every time I see you, you want to tie me up?” Kili smiled, trying to follow the sound of Dean’s footsteps as the blond crept around the back of the bed.

“Hush, now,” or I’ll have to find another cloth for your mouth. “And you know how much I enjoy hearing you scream,” Dean added, giving Kili’s pert little ass a light slap.

“Mmm,” Kili moaned. “Must you tease me, Dean?”

Dean got into bed next to Kili and leaned over to whisper in his ear, “It’s only teasing if I don’t intend to follow through, innit?” He huffed warm breath into the shell of Kili’s ear and nibbled.

“ _Kidhuzel,_ you are very naughty. Tell me again why is it I who must be spanked?” Kili asked.

“I’ll tell you why,” Dean ran his finger deliberately down Kili’s spine, from his thick raven mane to the crack of his ass. Kili shivered. “It’s because—”

“Yes?” Kili wiggled his ass suggestively.

“Clearly you were not spanked enough as a child,” Dean concluded. “Therefore you have a wild and rambunctious streak. It sometimes borders on reckless. Today, for instance… trying to take on three trolls by yourself without waiting for help. That was reckless.”

“That was saving Mr. Bog—ow!” Kili cried out as Dean’s palm came down hard on his left thigh. Dean noticed Kili’s mouth was open slightly and gasping in pleasure. He then smacked the right thigh, delighting in the groan it drew from the brunet’s throat.

“So reckless,” Dean rubbed Kili’s ass tenderly, then gave his right and left cheeks several smacks in rapid succession. “And what an adorable little bum you have. I can’t wait to see what it looks like pink, or red…” Kili’s hips lurched at Dean’s words and the blond chuckled. “After that, I think I may have to fuck you.”

Dean paused, still massaging Kili’s ass, waiting for Aidan to speak. Since Aidan’s surgery, he’d been unable to engage in anal sex of any sort due to the healing stitches. But he’d been given the green light the week before. They had yet to try.

“I think I’d like that,” Kili said, turning his face towards Dean’s and waiting for the deep kiss that inevitably came. “I’d like that very, very much,” he affirmed.

“Mmhmm,” Dean savored the taste of Kili on his tongue. “Yes, well, all in good time. First, we must address that crazy-ass stunt you pulled today. Were you trying to get your fool self killed?”

Kili shrugged as best he could. “I was just buying time until Fili, Uncle and the others came storming in. And that’s exactly what happened, wasn’t it?”

Dean lay three stinging smacks over Kili’s ass crack, earning soft keens of arousal with each blow. “Well, you don’t have to sound so smug about it. You left your poor brother in a state of panic.” Three more smacks. Now things were heating up. Dean smoothed the reddening skin with his palm and reached to the bedside table where he’d left the massage oil. Kili tensed with the _click_ of the top opening. “Mmm,” Dean sniffed it. “Almond. You’ll smell good enough to eat.”

“You didn’t seem to have any trouble eating me without condiments last time,” Kili reminded him, earning another quartet of smacks to his ass and thighs. 

“It’s a good thing you don’t have to climb on a pony tomorrow, Kili,” Dean chided him.

“I’d rather climb on you,” Kili smiled, wiggling his ass. 

“How _do_ you feel, love?” Dean asked him.

“If you smack me one more time, I think I might come then and there,” Kili admitted. “And I’m not sure I want to do that yet.”

“Roll over, then,” Dean suggested, and Kili did, hissing as his tender rump made contact with the sheets. True to his word, Kili’s cock was hard and leaking. Dean couldn’t help but lean down and take it into his mouth. Kili let out a cry and reached for Dean’s hair.

“No, no,” Dean scolded him, after pulling away from Kili’s dick with a slurp. “Hands. On. The. Bars,” he reminded Kili, who grumbled something under his breath. “What was that?” Dean gave Kili’s hip a light tap.

“Just want to touch you,” Kili pouted. Dean wished he could see Kili’s sad puppy-esque eyes, but the blindfold was still in place.

“Sorry. Today I touch _you,_ sweet one,” Dean ran his hands along the planes of Kili’s stomach. I’ve got my hands back and I am sure as hell going to use them.” Reaching up to delicately tweak one of Kili’s nipples, he returned to sucking the brunet’s cock in earnest.

“Deeeean,” Kili whined. “Thought you were going to wait a bit before you make me come.”

“The choice to come is entirely yours, princeling,” Dean smiled. “Hold out. You can do it,” he returned to the blow job, humming cheerfully.

“I hate you so much right now,” Kili babbled, barely controlling hips that wanted desperately to fuck up into Dean’s mouth. 

After Dean had his fill of torturing the archer with his tongue, he pulled off, but not before running his tongue slowly up the vein on the underside of Kili’s cock and circling it around the head, earning him a growl from the head of the bed. He squirted a generous amount of massage oil on and around Kili’s navel.

“C-cold!” Kili gasped.

“It won’t be for long, _âzyungâl,_ ” Dean assured him, dipping his fingers into the thick oil and slowly running them around Kili’s engorged dick, spending thirty full seconds rubbing torturously against his perineum. “Are you ready, love?” he asked. 

“God, yes,” Aidan broke character. “Go slow, Dean. But, God, _go!_ ” he bit at his lower lip and spread his legs in invitation. “You don’t have to fuck me, Dean. In fact, we can wait until tomorrow, after Kili leaves. But, please, put your fingers in me,” he begged.

 _After Kili leaves._ Dean shook his head in wonder at the phrase. The more they continued having rendezvous with one another’s alter-egos, the weirder their lives were becoming. He chuckled. Dean was admittedly a bit nervous about penetrating Aidan after all that had happened. But he took a deep, steadying breath and began massaging the furled opening he’d missed touching so much over the past six weeks.

Dean could tell the moment Aidan allowed Kili to return by the set of his jaw. “Mmm, Dean,” Kili gyrated his hips sinuously. “I can’t wait to see what your fingers feel like inside of me. You have such beautiful, delicate fingers.”

“Delicate, eh?” Dean drew more oil onto the aforementioned digits. “We’ll see how delicate they feel when they’re circling your pleasure center like a cat stalking its prey, and you are begging, weeping, for me to press that button…” Dean eased his middle finger into Kili, who tensed for only a second before relaxing again. Dean’s words were clearly having the desired effect. Kili was covered with a sheen of sweat and his thighs were trembling.

Kili gasped, but in pleasure, when Dean added another finger. Dean could feel the scarring from the surgery to repair the tearing—a slightly thickened, raised line. 

“Is-is that the scar under your finger?” Aidan wondered. “It feels huge.”

“The scar or my finger?” Dean rubbed the area gently.

“Heh, both, actually,” Aidan smiled. “But it doesn’t hurt. You aren’t hurting me, Dean.”

“I was worried this might hurt my fingers,” Dean admitted, but they seem to have healed just fine.” At that he crooked the two digits just so, and Aidan cried out in rapture. “Now, _bâhel_ , where was I?” The blond lowered his mouth onto Kili’s hot shaft and gently but firmly continued his assault on Kili’s prostate. It didn’t take more than a minute before Kili was shooting his load into Dean’s mouth.

“I tried to hold out,” Kili apologized profusely, as Dean swallowed his ejaculate and licked him clean for good measure. “I’m sorry, Dean. I just… I missed this so much.”

Dean crawled up Kili’s body and removed the blindfold. Kili had tears in his eyes. 

“I’m not crying, okay?” Aidan sniffed. “It’s just, you know, from the blindfold. And, I’m just so relieved. You have no idea how much I was dreading having something in my ass after…” he waved his hand dismissively, as if to sum up everything that had happened with Drake Hudson. “I thought it might be like losing my virginity again; like having a brand new cherry.” He wrapped his arms around Dean. “But it was all right. You made it all right,” he kissed Dean’s forehead. “You, and your lovely, delicate fingers.” He giggled.

“Oh, that is _it!_ ” Dean rose up quickly and rolled Aidan onto his stomach. “Clearly I didn’t spank you enough, dwarfling!”

Kili chuckled lustily, “Apparently not.”


	24. Souvenir (Time Stamp; Second Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time Stamp: Adam found something belonging to Rob Kazinsky among Drake Hudson's souvenirs. He visits him in London to talk about what happened to them.

Adam sits in the back seat of a taxi, fingers nervously clutching a small black box. As the driver draws closer and closer to Rob Kazinsky’s flat, Adam continues to lose confidence in his decision to visit his friend. Rob had sounded genuinely happy about the idea of them getting together when he’d e-mailed him about it, but now that the day has arrived, Adam feels it might be a mistake. 

He’d felt very close to Rob back in Wellington. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he _wanted_ the tall, gorgeous blond back then. They became fast friends, mostly due to their mutual nervousness. They laughed a lot, drank a lot—and, by default, shared a lot.

Then, came that fateful day when Rob simply packed up his belongings and left the set with only a conversation with Peter about “personal reasons” to serve as a goodbye. Adam had been devastated. But life went on. Dean came, and breathed new life into Fíli and the fun of filming helped Adam forget. 

Until Drake Hudson happened; until that day when Drake abducted Aidan and Dean, and Adam found shocking pictures of himself, Rob and so many others on Drake’s hard drive. 

Adam had found a stash of jewelry in Drake’s desk drawer as well. Among the mish-mash of trinkets, he recognized a very particular necklace—an antique Star of David pendant that Rob always wore. It had belonged to his grandfather, Rob told him once, over ale. Adam had confiscated the necklace that day, planning to return it to Rob when he saw him again. 

Of course, returning the necklace meant more than just handing it over. It meant letting Rob know that he knew about why he left the set; it meant telling Rob that he knew his secret. But Adam had the same secret, as did scores of Drake’s victims. Rob needed to know. Right?

Adam drums his fingers nervously on the black box, but shoves it into his shirt pocket as the driver stops in front of Rob’s flat. Adam hands the cab driver £15 for the fare and tip and thanks him. 

Rob must have been waiting for his arrival, because he throws open the front door of his brownstone and rushes down the stairs to throw his arms around Adam. Adam feels warmth spread through his stomach when the blond picks him up and twirls them both around like long lost lovers.

“I’m so happy to see you, Adam!” Rob declares, squeezing him impossibly harder. “You’re so tan, and you’ve bulked up!” Rob holds him at arm’s length and fondles his biceps. 

“Well, carrying around weapons and backpacks will do that for a man,” Adam smiles. “It was rather like being in the Marines,” he jokes.

“I well remember,” Rob smiles fondly. Rob, it appears, has lost some weight. But it’s not unattractive. “Do you have any bags?”

“Oh, not with me,” Adam tells him. “I brought my wallet, in case we go out. But I fly back tomorrow. I left my things at mum’s.”

“Well, come in,” Rob ushers him up the stairs and inside.

“I still can’t believe you had time to see me,” Adam admits. “You’ve been a busy boy.”

“Insanely so,” Rob locks the door once they are inside. “In fact, I’m leaving in two days myself… for America. I’m going to be on _True Blood,_ ” he beams.

“Oh, please tell me you’re not going to go all Robert Pattinson on me,” Adam rolls his eyes.

“Goodness no,” Rob goes to the kitchen and pulls two bottles of lager from his refrigerator. “I’m not playing a vampire. I’ve been cast as a fairy. They’re the new big thing on the show. _Hot_ fairies,” he grins, handing an uncapped bottle to Adam. “We can sit here, if you like,” he indicates the cozy, cushioned kitchen nook.

“You’re going Hollywood,” Adam says, awed, sliding into the booth.

“It would appear so,” Rob raises his bottle. “A toast, to our shared successes.”

Adam reciprocates the gesture, “And to bedding Sookie Stackhouse!”

Rob chuckles, “And that.” He takes a long pull of lager. “So, I understand filming is going very well. And my replacement didn’t disappoint?”

“Dean’s fit in brilliantly,” Adam admits, since Rob asked. “He and Aidan have hit it off extremely well. They’re dating, in fact.”

“You don’t say,” Rob grins. “I’ve watched O’Gorman’s show… the one about the Norse gods. He’s not a very big guy, is he?”

“About my size,” Adam tells him. “It’s funny. There are all these shots where Fíli and Kíli are supposed to be the same height, so Dean has to wear these heavy platform boots. It’s like he’s in some bizarre Dwarven KISS Army.” Adam contemplates. “They have incredible chemistry,” he tells Rob. “They’re together all the time. Kind of like you and I were, before you left—but they have sex, of course.”

“Heh, sex,” Rob smiles softly. “But Jackson ran us ragged. Who had time for sex?”

 _For you, I would have made time,_ Adam thinks, smiling at the memory of the send-off Graham gave him before he boarded his plane to Glasgow.

“I’ve seen a lot of the rushes,” Adam tells Rob, instead. “You’ll be happy to know, that you will be seen a great deal in the first movie… action shots, long shots. It wasn’t in the budget to reshoot everything, of course.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Rob looks a bit sad for a moment. “Being on that set… I have such wonderful memories of my time there,” his voice quavered. “My decision to leave was not made lightly, Adam. I want you to know that. And, since we haven’t spoken properly since, I want you to know that it had nothing to do with you. I regretted leaving you there so much,” his face falls.

“Rob, you do not have to explain,” Adam feels the time is right to reach into his pocket. He pulls out the simple black cardboard box. “This is yours,” he says simply. “I found it.”

Rob’s eyes are quizzical, until he lifts the lid and reveals the necklace he’d thought he’d lost, lying on a simple square of cotton packing material. “Oh, Adam!” he whispers. “It’s my granddad’s necklace!” he pulls the gold chain with its round charm from the box and smiles at it fondly. He reaches for Adam’s hand. “I’d thought I’d lost it forever. Wherever did you find it?”

“Well, here’s the thing,” Adam begins, clearing his throat. “We’ve had some problems on set. A few weeks ago, a set designer named Drake Hudson tried to drug Aidan’s drink and abduct him from a bar.”

Rob’s face blanches and he lets go of Adam’s hand, fingering the necklace nervously. “ _Tried_ to abduct him, you say?” he asked, obviously trying very hard to control his tone.

“Aye,” Adam nods. “A bunch of us were there with him, fortunately. Dean chased Drake into the parking lot; the rest of us followed. Called him on it. Put the fear of God in him. We took Aidan home.” Adam locked eyes with Rob. “But the next morning, Drake came back. He kidnapped Aidan and Dean from Dean’s trailer... right off the lot.”

Rob picks up his bottle with a trembling hand and finishes the lager in one long chug. “How awful,” he says finally. “Were—are they all right?”

Adam nods. “Yes, they are now. We’d figured out who Drake was the night before. Personnel helped us find his home address and where to find him on set. He’d taken Dean and Aidan to this …this set that he built. A dungeon. They were tortured. He broke Dean’s hands. And, Aidan… well… he had this chair…”

“What happened to Drake?” Rob interrupts. “Was he taken into custody?”

“He’s in jail,” Adam assures him. “Plenty of evidence was found to keep him there a long, long time. _I_ found the evidence.”

“Tell me more,” Rob encourages him, getting up for a second round of lager.

“Mason, from personnel, gave us Drake’s address in Wellington. We actually ended up going to his apartment before we went to his dungeon on the set,” Adam tells him. “The place was deserted, but I found his laptop.”

Rob slides into the kitchen nook across from him. He is less pale since hearing the news of Drake being arrested, but the worst had yet to be revealed. Adam steels himself, then begins, “The laptop had photos on it. Hundreds of photos, Rob, of men he’d abducted and tortured.” He pauses for a moment. “Some of the pictures—they were of you, and me.”

Rob slowly raises his deep blue eyes to lock with Adam’s. They are wet with unshed tears. “You too?” is all he says.

“Yes,” Adam admits. “In the days after you left, I—I got depressed. Drank a lot, alone,” he grasps Rob’s hand across the table. “I was stupid. There were a few nights I just didn’t remember. I just figured I drank too much. To be honest, I still don’t remember what happened when I was with Drake. Even after seeing the pictures. It’s like it happened to someone else.”

“I remembered everything,” Rob tells him. “Not immediately, but over the course of a few days. I—I was bleeding; from my _ass_ ,” he is barely keeping it together. “I was so ashamed. I didn’t go to the hospital. It wasn’t a lot of blood. I bought some maxi-pads and wore them in my underwear until it stopped. Then, I left New Zealand. Like a coward. I just couldn’t bear to be in a place where that could happen to me again. But-but if I’d stayed, I could have at least been with you and kept you from being h-hurt.” He finally sobs. “Adam, I’m sorry I left you!”

“No, no,” Adam gets up and moves around to the other bench seat, sitting next to Rob. “Don’t you dare apologize for me letting my guard down. We were victims, Rob,” Adam reminds him. “Guys like Drake find ways of getting what they want, one way or another.” He hugs his friend.

Rob nods, numbly. “The—the pictures?”

“I deleted them. The ones of you and me,” Adam assures him. “I couldn’t delete them all. I would’ve, but the police needed evidence. But I made sure the pictures of you and me were gone. I found your necklace in one of Drake’s desk drawers. Apparently, he had a habit of taking jewelry from his victims as souvenirs.”

“Thank you, Adam,” Rob tells him. “Not just for finding my necklace, but for being brave enough to come here and tell me this. You could have just let me continue to suffer alone with what happened to me.”

“Never,” Adam squeezes him. “I would’ve flown up the very next day, if I could.”

Rob leans into Adam’s embrace, taking long, slow calming breaths. “I have missed you so much,” he tells his friend. “I have been talking to a psychiatrist about what happened. But that doesn’t compare with having a friend to confide in.”

“I know,” Adam sniffs back tears. “Nothing can replace a good friend.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Rob asks. “I have two guest rooms. I have a couple seasons of _True Blood_ I need to catch up on before I fly out. I’m sure we can turn that into a drinking game. I’ll drive you to your mum’s in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah,” Adam agrees. “I’ll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two needed closure. Please forgive me if I grossly and badly write Rob. I know nothing of this sweet man.


End file.
